


The Merman and a Fisherman

by mhs0501



Category: Frozen (2013), The Little Mermaid - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Desperation, Everyone is something different, F/F, F/M, Family, Female Homosexuality, Homophobia, Humor, Kristoff is a fisherman, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Manipulation, My first... crossover fic?, Nudity, Separate Childhoods, Separations, This is Little Mermaid with Frozen Characters, This is based off of fanart, mentions of abuse, mermaid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:11:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5263757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhs0501/pseuds/mhs0501
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Kingdom of Baltica after skirting his guard, Hans ends up caught by a fisherman named Kristoff, and realizes not all humans are terrible when he shows him kindness. When a young woman named Elsa hears of Kristoff's luck, she joins him to try and learn about her little sister, Anna, who disappeared when they were younger. Through magic, they turn Hans human, and the merman is smitten with Kristoff. But will Elsa's desperation to be reunited with her lost sister drive her to jeopardize her only chance? And can Hans earn the fisherman's love before he loses everything?</p><p>This is an idea I've had for a really long time and is based off some images I found online. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a mystery to Hans how Anna could find joy in the smallest of things; even if they were unknown and therefore intriguing. There were many things in the world that were worthy of fascination that didn’t involve scavenging for objects in one of the many ship graveyards that dotted the sandy bottom of the sea. His fiancee may have had her head on straight at one point during their relationship, but now Hans found himself questioning whether or not he had his own head on correctly based off of his choices in the past few hours.

 

“Hurry up! We don’t have all day!” Anna called out to Hans, who was slowly falling behind despite his initial gusto in her pursuits.

 

The rush of sudden anxiety and danger made him nearly turn tail and swim away, but gritted his teeth tightly, reminding himself it was a good idea to try and take interest in his beloved’s hobbies- or so his grandmother had advised him too. This was going to be a bittersweet report when she asked how the day had gone.

 

But then again, Hans couldn’t say no to her. She was elderly, and had been widowed since before the birth of his first brother. She always had a small, knowing smile whenever she saw her youngest grandson swim past, as if she had eyes all over the ocean and knew about his endeavors before Hans did himself. Perhaps they’d find something nice in the graveyard it would make a nice gift. She was nearing her two-hundred-seventy-eighth birthday, but Hans reminded himself to choose his gift, as well as his words as to where he had found it, carefully. While his grandmother found some beauty in human artifacts, she preferred not to discuss the topic unless begged to by an overeager Anna and occasionally curious Hans. It was almost impossible to discuss certain things within the walls of the Baltica Palace; which was exactly what Hans found trying about Anna’s lack of a conscience at many times.

 

“Anna,” He pushed his fins downward in a rhythmic motion to catch up to the startling speed of the mermaid. “You know we shouldn’t even be doing this? It’s bad enough that I know about your... your…” He struggled to come up with a word for Anna’s hobby.

 

“Collection?” She slowed her swim a bit, as if contemplating the words he’d said but refused to stop short of her goal.

 

“Yes. You know as well as I do we’ll get in trouble if anyone finds out that we’re doing this,” He indicated the shadow of a sunken ship in the distance, it's barnacle covered mask sticking up over the ledge of the sand bar like a mighty tree that had survived an inhuman blaze.

 

“Stop worrying. Everything’s going to be fine if you just stay behind me like the strong merman you are!” Anna rolled her eyes slightly and bolted ahead again, forcing Hans to keep up despite his lack of willingness to stay.

 

He didn’t want to be here and risk trouble, but he also didn’t want to risk losing Anna if he just left her alone to her own devices. His fiancee had two left fins, and Hans knew if she went there alone; she may as well end up as a new addition in a graveyard with ships as it’s only occupants.

 

He shivered and pushed the thought from his mind as they came closer to a sludge-covered dune, the wrecks of ships glinting in the beams of sun that shone through the calm waves. Glints of artifacts could be seen strewn along the sandy bottom like diamonds in a desert rough. The total amount coral and barnacles that clung to the many facets of the once mighty vessels could’ve easily covered the gardens of the Baltica Palace under a layer at least an inch thick. It would’ve been a welcome change, Hans figured. He was really the only one of his brothers that cared for his garden, their own sad and limp kelp-covered paths the envy of no one. He was beginning to see why Anna had wanted to come here. The ships themselves were relatively old, hence the artifacts and things collected would be more sentimental- at least, that was what Anna had said in preparation for this journey.  

 

“There it is!” She hushed a squeal of excitement and pointed over the sludge at the decrepit ruins like prized treasures. Hans sighed warily and cast a doubtful look at Anna as she swim over the only thing separating the both of them from trouble and a certain brush with death.

 

“Anna, please. Do you have to go up to the wreckage?” Hans pleaded, slowly following his fiancee over the dune with great uneasiness.

 

“Yes!” She called back with annoyance, her the tips of her glass green tail fins disappearing into a dark yet sizable hole in the hull made by the sudden and no doubt violent impact of the vessel to the seafloor. Hans shook his head quickly and dismissed the notion of things that could go wrong. At least there weren’t sharks here… were there?

 

“No;” Hans chided himself. “There shouldn’t- no. There are no sharks here. What would they be doing here anyhow?” He chuckled nervously as his common sense began to unravel the rhetorical question with every reason a shark would be there, in this graveyard of ruined mariners vessels.

 

“Come on, Hans! I want your help up here!” Anna snapped him from his delusions as her impatience echoed through the belly of the ship.

 

She didn’t even need his help; she just wanted to get him there so she wouldn’t feel alone. She often made grabs for human artifacts with only herself for company, and had found marveling in the beauty of those strange and seemingly useful inventions empty without someone to share it all with. And despite the fact that they had been courting for five years, Anna decided with the vow of honesty came the reason to show her husband-to-be the excuses for all their cancelled dates and missed time spent apart. Frankly, Hans hadn’t really cared what Anna had spent her personal time doing and after finding out what, wished he could claim ignorance and be blissfully unaware of her dangerous hobby. But he’d proposed. They were to be married. Hans kept telling himself that this wasn’t anything to be mad about; just another side to Anna that was sure to provide adventure and entertainment throughout the rest of their lives. But those words and sayings offered little comfort knowing where she- no, _they_ could end up if anyone else were to find out they were stuffing a caves worth of barbarian artifacts. Not barbarians, Anna would constantly remind him. Humans.

 

But forbidden was forbidden, no matter what they were called.

 

Against his better judgement, Hans swam through the hole and into the darkness of the hull, the only sources of light to be found streaming through the numerous cannonball sized holes and broken windows. According to Anna she’d heard from secondhand sources, however unreliable they may have sounded, that this particular graveyard existed because of a terrible maritime battle that resulted in them sinking with a large number of handy-dandy artifacts. Looking around at the large balls of rusting iron that littered the keel of this vessel, Hans found the story to have some element of truth to it.

 

Anna was swimming around the vast expanse of the cargo hull, looking closely at every little detail and scar on the aged and water soaked wood as if the ship were something she would take back to her collection; piece by agonizing piece. Her little purse, despite being only the size of Hans’ hand when empty, could hold a surprising amount of things that normally would’ve taken a bag much larger. Heck, he was pretty sure Anna could’ve stuffed a humpback whale into that purse and still had room for her usual haul with room to spare.

 

The cargo hold, depending on the ship, could be either the most interesting, or the most boring of locations on the sunken wreck. Sometimes they would come across a pirates worth of gold, gems, or other trinkets, while other times the irony of a ship carrying barreled water would appear every so often. Thankfully the burgundy tint to the water around the shelves and leaking barrels suggested this ship was carrying rum, and therefore, worth overlooking. Anna seemed to realize this only after another five minutes of checking every nook and cranny, the only things worth finding being a few silver pieces that the mermaid grumbled about already having a bazillion of them. Beckoning her fiance forth through another hole, there appeared to be more shelves and a few pieces of furniture.

 

“Captains Quarters.” Anna remarked with a terrible pirates accent. “Ye wish to get lucky, me bucko?” She continued in the voice as Hans strained the effort not to roll his eyes.

 

Ignoring Hans’ indifference, the mermaid began looking around the sunken room with a remarkable amount of enthusiasm that most people would have had trouble reenacting. She hummed a little tune whilst picking up an inkwell, a bedraggled feather quill, and delicately rolling a section of blotched parchment paper, the material often tending to tear or in a worst case scenario, completely disintegrate.

 

“Hans, are you going to help me or not?” She put her small hands on her hips with a pouting face.

 

Hans groaned. “You asked me to come along, not help.” He looked around the ruined room anxiously, as if touching the objects intensified his guilt.

 

“I asked for a strong merman, not a guppy.” Anna joked and threw a punch at Hans, who flinched; much to her amusement.

 

“I am not a guppy.” Hans crossed his arms with a stern glare.

 

“You are too! You can’t even help me carry a few things!” She teased and swam around him and out the empty doorway to the next room, her long strawberry blonde hair trailing behind her like a comet's tail. Hans groaned and followed her, like a guppy.

 

“What are all those things anyway? Do you even know?” Hans cast a knowing look at the purse, despite being completely unsure of what they were himself.

 

“Yes, of course I do!” Anna stated defensively. Hans raised an eyebrow, his lips forming a thin, unimpressed line.

 

“Really?” He asks with a sarcastic drawl.

 

“Yeah!” Anna huffed and retrieved the inkwell from the purse and holding it up like a priceless treasure. “This is called a _prulaglarit._ ” She flaunted the nonsensical word like a learned scholar would. Hans snorted, still unimpressed.

 

“And this!” She jammed her hand into the purse and pulled back out the parchment. “Is called _blafteworf._ ” She enunciated the word once more.

 

Hans began to swim to the side of the room, as if to intimidate her lack of knowledge. “And what is that?” He feigned interest pulling the quill from the purse as Anna glared at him.

 

“It’s a feather, you stinker.” She snapped and grabbed the feather from him threateningly and stuffed it back in her purse.

 

“You don’t know what any of these are,” Hans felt slightly confident. “You just made up those words.” He chuckled as the mermaid huffed.

 

“I did not make that up! I have sources guppy!” She jabbed him in the chest as he kept laughing.

 

“Because seagulls have a complex mindset.” He teased as Anna punched him in the arm in an effort to silence the merman, though it only served to make him laugh even harder.

 

“Well they do, smarty-fins.” Anna clutched her purse like a weapon.

 

“Please,” Hans snickered. “Their idea of fine dining is picking apart dead fish. You really shouldn’t give something a name unless you know for sure what it is.”

 

“I’m starting to think of a few choice names for my husband-to-be.” She glared at Hans, which only made him laugh harder. “Fine. I’ll look myself. But you don’t know what you’re missing.” Anna scoffed and swam into the next room while the merman recovered from his laughing fit.

 

A loud gasp filtered through both rooms and Hans quickly snapped up and swam into the next room, Anna’s attention captured by something that gleamed from every vantage point in the room. Hans raised an eyebrow as Anna marveled at the object, it’s lure apparently mesmerizing. She fawned over the thing for another full minute before realizing Hans was there and grabbing him tight.

 

“Hanshanshans!!” She squealed his name over and over dragging him closer to the object the merman scowling at the object and blaming it for the bruises his fiance was no doubt giving him.

 

“You have got the see what this is!” She nodded and suddenly let of of the merman, sending him spinning to her right and catching his breath as he did, disorientation clouding his vision for a moment before Anna grabbed the gleaming object and hoisted it into the pool of light coming from an unbroken bay window.

 

“You dragged me in here for a _trident?_ ” Hans groaned as Anna looked at the four tined silver trident with all the splendid wonder a child would eye a chocolate bar with.

 

“Not just any old trident!” The bubbly mermaid corrected him, awe still filling her candy blue eyes. “It has four spears! See?!” She thrust the miniature trident at him and Hans swam back, it’s size not fooling him to the damage a trident could cause.

 

Anna, annoyed at this, mumbled ‘guppy’ under her breath and began to count and recount the silver tines as if each time a new one would appear for her to add to it’s value. Hans crossed his arms and swam over to the window, putting a bit of weight on the delicate glass and waited for Anna to be finished marveling at the miniature trident; hopefully without hurting herself. After fives minutes of silent awe, Hans broke the silence with an annoyed tone.

 

“Anna, we need to go soon. This old wreck it going to collapse on us with all the time you’re spending marveling a… a…” The merman trailed off, unsure what Anna was going to bother calling it this time. “What is it anyway?” He snapped lightly at his own lack of knowledge. Anna shrugged, a large grin appearing on her face.

 

“I don’t know! But we’ll ask the gulls soon enough!” She stuffed the fork into her bag, the silver object clinking along with the day's haul.

 

“Does this mean we can go now?” Hans couldn’t help but hide his hopeful smile.

 

“Yeah. We should head back anyhow.” Anna admitted looking into her bag and happily sighing. “Another successful day, eh Hans?” She patted him on the shoulder.

 

“If you can call it that. Let’s just go. This place is giving me the creeps.” The merman frowned disdainfully at the crumpling room around them.

 

“Hans, quit being such a guppy. Nothing even happened!” She rolled her eyes and began to swim back the way they came.

 

“Not yet.” He corrected. “We’re still technically here.” He cast an uneasy look at his fiancee, the room suddenly growing darker as a shadow drew over the window. Anna kept swimming forward while Hans fought the terrible urge to identify what was slowly blacking out the room.

 

“There are no sharks, Hans. Nope. No sharks here.” He repeated the mantra as his head slowly turned to the window. A large shark stared back at him, it’s terrifying grin showcasing a plethora of sharp teeth.

 

*******

 

“So, let us recap.” The queen said with a frown blossoming on her young features as Hans and Anna stood before her and the king.

 

“You went to a ships graveyard that was marked as unsafe, disobeyed your curfew, swam _inside_ the unsafe vessel, and risked getting killed by a shark in some delusional effort to scavenge artifacts that are strictly forbidden in this kingdom?”

 

Silence was held between the four of them as nobody wanted to admit the truth.

 

The king and queen of Baltica were well known not only for their fair and just pursuits to better their kingdom, but also their extensive bloodline. In the span of two decades they had the largest amount of children within the realm, wanting the further the line of heirs as much as possible. It was a mystery to some why out of thirteen pregnancies, the only result had been boys, but nobody really complained. After all, it gave them an excuse to try their daughters luck at winning the hearts of the extensive collection of mermen with personalities and interests as different as thirteen unrelated strangers. Despite the effort, it was rarely rewarded and so far, had yet to pay off. Thankfully Hans had never needed to deal with suitors aside from the occasional duke's daughter that found him mysterious or something else of the sort. ‘Always go for brothers number six and up’ was something whispered in the ears of those daring enough to make the bid for the merteens. Therefore, Hans never worried about an awkward dinner date set up by a high member of society or his normally lenient parents.

 

But that lack of interest in him position-wise often came with being ignored altogether by most everyone, save for only a few that bothered. Anna had been one of those few, having been a newcomer to Baltican society after being adopted by a powerful couple who could not conceive. There had been no awkward or forced introductions, the two meeting in Hans’ garden on the evening of a big galla. She’d come to the garden simply because it was the only one that had any sort of life in it, which Hans took as a compliment that while his brothers may have excelled in numerous other trades and skills, at least he could boast he was well put together. But of course, his brothers could now boast the very same in lieu of today’s events and the punishments that would accompany it.

 

“Well?” His mother narrowed her gaze at Hans in particular.

 

“Yes.” Hans nodded, lowering his head down as Anna mimicked the motion.

 

From her vantage point only a few steps above Hans in the throne room, the queen could tell there was remorse in her youngest son. The king could sense it as well. Both of them knew that Hans was adventurous when he cared to be, but more so on the arm of his new bride. Anna was two years younger than Hans and therefore slightly immature, but when required to by her parents she’d always kept herself at a level of decorum expected from a young mermaid her age. Despite this evidence there was a fair amount of mystery to her; what she enjoyed aside from tutored hobbies, what she truly thought or did. The king and queen never really busied themselves with Hans’ fiancee. They’d been fairly confident she wouldn’t be trouble. But now it seemed there was time to investigate, and whether or not to reconsider their blessings. However, that wasn’t to be discussed at the moment. It was hardly appropriate given the reason they were there.

 

“Hans, your mother and I won’t ask any further questions.” His father said after a drawn out and weary sigh. “Provided you tell us why.”

 

“Why what?” Hans attempted to hold the question off. His parents scowled at him. He crossed his arms as whatever remaining power he had left him at complete mercy of his parents. “I-”

 

“This was all my fault!” Anna blurted out of nowhere.

 

“Lady Anna, the question was directed-”

 

“It was all my idea to go to the shipyard; I just wanted Prince Hans to accompany me,” She paused for a moment to see if she would be interrupted by her future in-laws. When captivated silence prevailed, she continued. “I was curious about something I had seen there earlier and wanted to go investigate. I just figured I needed someone to accompany me there and make sure I was safe.” She claimed despite the fact that she didn’t know the meaning of ‘safe’.

 

“Your son is the strongest merman of your breed. Without him I would’ve been eaten by that shark. In fact, he spent the entire time swimming there trying to convince me not to go, because he worried about you and your rules so much. So please,” She knotted her fingers. “If someone is to be blamed for this incident, blame me.”

 

Hans did everything he could not to protest Anna’s claims, knowing that she, in fact, had saved him when he ended up getting stuck going out the small window of the ship's hull by pulling him free right before the worst could happen. And while he had discouraged her from going, it was mostly to save himself. Hardly heroic; but it if saved their fins, who was he to call her bluff?

 

“Son,” His mother said with a slight bit of sympathy. “We want what’s best for you, and in lieu of your actions we’re postponing the wedding date for a week, as well as keeping you under supervision for that week. You will be accompanied by a guard whenever you step out of the palace. In exchange, there is to be no more talk of ships, graveyards, or anything of the sort. Are we understood?”

 

“Yes mother.” Hans nodded.

 

“And Anna,” His father nodded in her direction and Hans could sense his fiance visibly shrinking in fear.

 

“Yes?” She almost squeaked.

 

“You are to be princess consort in a week's time, and we are trusting you with that power. Being royalty hardly leaves you exempt from crimes. We want to you understand that, and for that reason, we are going to be enlightening your parents of your deed, and allowing them to decide the best manner of punishment. Understood?”

 

Anna relaxed. Her parents wouldn’t do anything very serious. She wouldn’t be exempt of punishment, true, but it wouldn’t be as unbearable as having a guard follow her.

 

“Yes, your majesty.” She bowed.

 

His father smiled, getting up from where he sat on his throne, his wife following suit. After a period of minutes, the pair were alone.

 

“Anna, why did you do that?” Hans turned to his fiance.

  
Anna smiled. “Because we’re stuck together, even if you are a guppy.” She grinned at him and started swimming away. Hans could only protest as she disappeared from the throne room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd really like to know what you think of this, so please comment! Suggestions are taken.  
> Also, link to the images and its creator:  
> http://theforgotten13th.tumblr.com/post/79859215731/sketched-this-while-i-was-in-bed-sick-w-i-hope


	2. Chapter 2

The distant shouts of his personal guard garnered no response from Hans. He frankly didn’t care what his guard had to plea of him. The young merman knew a prince outweighed a guards rule every time; even when that guard was merely a pawn sent by his powerful parents to keep watch over him. It had only been half a day and already Hans couldn’t take to the idea of someone following him nearly everywhere; and came to respect his parents nonchalance when it came to their personal security of guards, and it was a mystery to him how they managed to just get used to another merpersons presence when he could hardly stand one of his brothers tailing him in the hallways. He was feeling the constant state of invasion on his personal life and found the guard himself to be about as willing to sleep or even make conversation as a fish would be to swim into shallow water.

 

The irony struck him that he was doing the very same, but Hans didn’t care. The endless expanse of crystal blue ocean that made up the shallows offered little to no excitement or chances of being found mostly because no one ever came up here, the reason why never specified. Of course, the word _shallows_ was a bit of a clue, but beyond that the prince wasn’t worried about his safety unless it came at the jaws of a shark and so far, none were to be found. Of course, there were tales of barbarians that hunted and killed fish and pretty much anything in the water, but the prince’s only association with them to date had been helping his now grounded fiancee search for their old artifacts. What lay above the surface had always been a mystery to Hans, and while there was intrigue to be had, that was more Anna’s department.

   

So of course, when he swam by a string  that led to the surface, he didn’t think much of it until he got nearer. On closer inspection something glinted much like Anna’s beloved dinglehopper, but it was hardly the same shape. The word to identify was as unknown as any human relic. Even the shape Hans couldn’t describe. It had a pointed end and was knotted to a seemingly endless strand of string that could’ve gone on as far as… well, Hans didn’t know. Brightly colored feathers were intricately knotted to the shining object that delicately swayed and bobbed with the ocean tides. It was beautiful, enchanting, heavenly…

 

“Get ahold of yourself, Hans. It’s just a…” He trailed before before a sense of elation overcame him. Was this what it was like to discover something new? Was this what Anna lived for? Whatever the feeling was, the prince could feel it dissipating. But before he could begin to swim any from the possible danger, something attached to the sharp point got his attention.

 

It was orange, and disk shaped. It looked… interesting. Hans scrunched his brow and ran his fingers over the unknown object, his curiosity growing stronger as he cast a confused look at the strings abrupt ending as it left the water. Taking a deep breath and pushing his better judgement aside to satisfy his growing hunger for answers, he began to inch his fingers along the orange disk, easing the brightly colored object from where it was skewered. The motion didn’t seem to do anything to upset the gentle silence, and Hans found the object lying in the palm of his hand, his gaze still focused on the surface of the ocean and its mysterious line of string.

 

For a few moments, Hans contemplated what he could do next, his curiosity refusing to be satisfied with a measly orange disk. The calls of his guard were growing fainter, as if the guard had begun to turn tail and leave. Hans closed a fist hard around the object in his hand, and tried to recall anything he could about something familiar like this occurring. When nothing came up after a few minutes of concentration, Hans shook the notion from his head. This was wrong. It was too beautiful. It was designed to catch his attention. He huffed confidently like he’d won a battle against a playground bully, and turned around and gave his tail a flip in the opposite direction, his eyes closed as he began to swim away. He was better than that to be tempt by a measly… whatever the heck it was.

 

But a sharp, stabbing pain came from his tail, and Hans yelped at the sight. The sharp object was burgundy with gore, the area around it clouding scarlet with his blood. Hans gritted his teeth in pain at the realization that he’d been clumsy enough to impale his tail; even though he’d been trying to swim away from it. The prince, on instinct, began flipping his injured tail in a vain and stupid attempt to free himself, the pain only intensifying as he struggled.

 

But before he could even scream again, a sharp jerk came from his tailfin, and he saw the hook as well as his tail was being slowly hoisted from the water. Realization of what the object was came flooding back to him and Hans cursed as loudly and violently as possible as he continued to be dragged through the cloudy water at a steadily increasing speed. Another jerk came from his fin with a wave of pain that made Hans woozy, stars flashing in his eyes at the cartilage and muscles were torn apart. In his anger and blinding pain the merman almost wished the sharp object would tear his tail off simply so the pain would end.

 

The splash of wavelets and the scent of salt invaded his nostrils while the blinding light of the sun assaulted Hans from every angle, the unfamiliarity of it all making him more woozy than the lack of water and the sudden dryness of the world. Through his water-soaked ears he could hear a cry of alarm and the sound of twirling line as the merman felt himself being pried further and further away from the water's embrace. He struggled to move, the weight of his upside down body a shocking reality to the near weightless qualities of the water. The prince felt himself screaming along with the unknown voice, and twirled around to face his catcher as the upward movement suddenly stopped along with the other voice.

 

Prince Hans found himself staring into the widest pair of eyes he’d ever had to see, their silent shock only broken by a steady whimpering that Hans failed to realize was coming from his own lungs. The whites made up the majority, leaving a honeyed brunette to make up the center in a swirling motion that was nearly as mesmerizing as the sharp object impaled in his tail.

 

It took a moment for his vision to adjust to the near blinding light as more and more of the figure before him began to take familiar shapes. His jaw hanging limp, his lips parted in marveled awe as if having hoisted a priceless gem from the oceans deep blue. His hair was a golden blonde and messily positioned in near wavy swathes that were parted from his face, a shock of bangs having been mussed to nearly cover his left eye. The top part of his head had a strange, knitted black cap that was made from an unfamiliar material, the rest of his ensemble making near to no sense for Hans.

 

The most shocking part of it all, despite the fact that Hans knew they would be there, were two, muscular legs that remained ramrod straight, the end of them apparently coming to curl upward after touching the wood of the pier. He was handsome. No, gorgeous. No… there were no words. Only the calling of gulls and the silent rush of the sea broke the shocked silence held between the merman and the fisherman. Hans tried to join in on breaking the silence after a moment's pause, realizing what would inevitably be happening if he didn’t manage to get away from this barbarian. But nothing came out. It wasn’t even the lack of water or the shock of being impaled and possibly handicapped for life. It was attraction.

 

The merman didn’t even realize his captor had shifted him into his muscular arms until the brush of artificial fabric spent a tremble down his spine. This was a trick. Not even sirens were this beautiful. There should’ve been flaws. There had to be. He was a barbarian. He had caught Hans and was now going to be chopping his tail off to be eaten or put on display like a disgusting trophy. Hans shut his eyes and opened them again before finding an urge in his arm. It was as if he had no control over it; almost as if the god-like human was willing him to do something criminal, something rash. But it was his own actions, the prince was telling it to move forward. To do something.

 

His fist connected with the barbarians jaw before either of them truly realized it. Along with that came a surprising plea from Hans.

 

“No!” He shouted angrily, whether it was because of the fisherman's intentions for him or for the stunning beauty that he assumed was false, he didn’t know. Either way, a punch to the jaw would’ve certainly disrupted any kind of glamour or the thoughts of cooking him in a stew.

 

But the human didn’t look particularly angry; or hungry for that matter. He just looked uncomfortable, as if realizing just where he had his hands or realizing what the merman had meant in that simple gesture and word. Heck, it could’ve been both. A bruise was beginning to well on his jaw where Hans had struck him, the merman having since recoiled his fist in surprise at his own actions.

 

In that moment the lack of water was catching up with the young merman, and he felt himself gasping in air suddenly as though during his shock he’d forgotten how to breath. The dryness made quick work on his parched lungs, and in only seconds Hans felt himself slipping away from the fisherman's grasp and into the darkness that awaited one in death.

 

***

 

After his initial shock faded, it had taken a considerable amount of courage not to throw the complete surprise back into the mysterious fathoms below. Kristoff had never considered whether his trade of fishing would bring anything but endless days and nights on the little pier looking up at constellations to pass the time.

 

But here was a creature that Kristoff had not only never seen, but had never imagined would look so… like him. The tales of mermaids and mermen were the stuff of legend in the sleepy town he had always called home, but they were more the stories told by washed up drunks at the tavern who had just happened to be on the beach when their ill choices had caught up with them. There were whispers of strange magic and communication with what Kristoff often called his dinner. There were wives tales woven up to scare children into behaving, like the story of little Anna Arendelle who had been dragged beneath the waves because she refused to eat her vegetables or some other fabrication to fit for the moral of the story. Kristoff didn’t believe in myths like that, not when he’d never really had the stomach to listen to these kinds of stories when there were more practical uses of one’s time.

 

But now he had happened to get lucky after using the same lure and bait of carrots for five years in a row and managed to catch one of these mythical creatures. Such a find would make any man with such a desire rich and famous throughout the world. But not Kristoff. He didn’t crave attention and certainly didn’t want it. And what good was gold or money when it came at exploiting something that was helpless and most likely terrified of him? It would be like exploiting a child. But worst of all he had injured the merman, something he certainly hadn’t wanted to do, despite the fact that hooks were designed for that very purpose. Kristoff felt as though he had to rectify the situation. After all, he had pretty much caused it.

 

He lowered the merman onto the pier as his sea green eyes rolled back into his head, the auburn brows relaxing from his angered glare as he slipped into unconsciousness. Having to care for himself often, Kristoff had had his share of broken limbs and lacerations; especially when he’d first been harnessing his trade. But the biology of merpeople was a complete mystery to him as much as it would’ve been to any other person in the same predicament. He didn’t even know where to begin. Instinct told him to go to his family for help, but even if they knew anything about mermaids, his sled had been broken for the past week and he was too short on time to even consider repairing it. Already the blood from the injured tail of dripping more steadily onto the damp dock and into the harbor, a cloud of red slowly expanding with each passing moment.

 

“The hook.” Kristoff suddenly blurted as his eyes darted to the sharp, metal wire that was impaled at the intersection between the merman's two fins. The aquamarine of his scales was caked with blood and gore, the color turning brown beneath the dribbling waves of red.

 

With nearly no thought in the first few movements, Kristoff shook his blonde mane sharply and reminded himself to be more careful. Unlike most of the fish he caught he needed to try and remove the hook with as little damage as possible. The irony was painful, but then again, so was the injury.

 

Flipping the merman onto his backside unceremoniously, Kristoff gulped and began to apply pressure to the shank, the sharpened end of the weapon slowly curving out of the muscles in his patients fins. It shook a long time before the fisherman realized he was holding his breath and by then the hook was held delicately between his thumb and index finger, blood drying in the grooves of his print. For a moment he stared between the hook and the merman, wondering just how much damage he’d caused before scrunching his eyes shut and taking a deep breath, his anxiety subsiding.

 

Calm once more, Kristoff dropped the hook into his pocket, seeing it could be salvaged despite the fact that he could always make more of them. He looked at the bloody wound and frowned, unsure what to use to clean the gore so he could properly work. Not seeing any other option, the fisherman sighed and took the white cloth that he had used to carry his days lunch in and began sopping up the sticky blood from the aquamarine tail and fins. Seeing the sharp line where the hook had carved into the merman’s fin nearly made him cringe with disgust and guilt. This was all his fault. Him and his stupid occupation. He sighed and pushed the angst down. Now was hardly the time to get emotional. He was performing _surgery_ for crying out loud!  

 

With a deep breath he stood from where he kneeled and began to sprint towards his little house in the very near distance, the clunking of the wooden dock beneath his feet quickly replaced with the crunching of vegetation as his home grew closer. Tearing through the door he began to frantically search for the trolls first-aid kit faster than he knew was necessary, but the fisherman didn’t want to take any chances of the merman possibly being found by someone or something else. He was passed out and bleeding like an injured seal, and would be completely helpless unless he was there to keep anything unexpected at bay. The little knit wicker basket entered his vision from where it was set beside the little stone fireplace, never used.

 

Not bothering to check if what he needed was in there, Kristoff grabbed the basket and dashed back to the pier where thankfully the merman hadn’t moved. Setting the kit down he removed the cover and began digging through the monthly package for what he was looking for. Salves, potions, and bandages soon littered the cluttered dock as the fisherman continued digging and redigging nearly three times before finding a needle in a little box with thread that he had, fortunately, not made use of in the recent past. Usually he wasn’t the one performing the operation. That job fell to the nearest neighbor or passer by with experience in sewing, something Kristoff had done from time to time on repairs to his outfits or other fabrics, but those repairs were messy and hardly acclaimed.

 

“Hopefully he won’t look for aesthetics.” The fisherman grumbled looping the thread through the bone needles eye.

 

With silent precision and delicate movements, he began stitching the six inch long wound shut from left to right, the black sections of stitching contrasting with the aquamarine of his tail and fins. He worked as slowly as he dared to, the stress of possibly slipping up and injuring the creature further keeping him from making any sort of mistake; no matter how insignificant. The fragile needle bended slightly a few times, but fortunately didn’t break. The stitchwork was a little messy, whatever accuracy the fisherman thought he had quickly disproving itself, but it still held the wound together. He wasn’t sure how he would end up removing the suture later; but Kristoff hoped he could explain that when the merman awoke.

 

The job finished and the anxiety beginning to fade along with the afternoon sun, the fisherman picked up his catch and walked from the dock to the beach nearby, unrolling a blanket for the injured creature to rest on. He looked dehydrated, small sections of dry skin beginning to flake off in places. With minimal effort Kristoff found himself pulling the blanket closer to the lapping waves of the deep blue ocean, bringing a bucket to the ocean and hoping it would be enough. He couldn’t just toss the creature back in when the wound was still healing. He’d use his tail and end up damaging it further.

 

He pleaded to himself that the water would resuscitate the merman as he began to slowly dribble the saltwater over his patient's tail, chest, and face. The liquid disappeared almost instantly as it touched the sea creatures skin, the dry spots becoming damp and healthy once more as a satisfied Kristoff embraced his strategy and refilled the bucket, repeating his strategy over the next half hour as signs of life began to appear on the merman. His skin became less pale, less chapped. His tail began to swish with every few buckets, the sutures holding strong despite the movement. And, most telling, his chest began to rise and fall. Ragged, at first, but the breathing became less labored as time went on and more clean with every drop that landed on him. Rehydrating a sea creature was indeed a new thing for Kristoff, and he was pleased with himself that his primitive strategy was succeeding.

 

A wide grin grew more prominent as the merman’s eyes fluttered open like he’d been asleep for ages, a sharp breath escaping him as if an invisible choker on his neck as loosened, allowing him to breath once more. Of course, this happened right in the middle of one of the buckets and the sudden breath out of unconsciousness startled the fisherman so much that he ended up dousing the sea creatures head with the remaining water as if the sudden breath of air would make him black out once again. The bedraggled young merman recovered from the shock of water quickly, wiping his hand through his auburn hair and looking wide-eyed at his tail, then Kristoff. Understanding began to surface beneath the shock and Hans found himself staring at the muscular man who had healed his handicap. He swished his tail experimentally, a small line forming on his lips at the jet black stitches.

 

Then, those green eyes focused on Kristoff, as if expecting an explanation. The fisherman brought a hand to the back of his head and massaged it slowly, a blush rising in his cheeks.

 

“You… you were bleeding…” He stammered at the mermans curiosity.

 

He seemed to take it as an answer and cast a nonchalant glance at the ocean. Kristoff understood the desire in his eyes, and despite his better judgement, he hardly wanted to deny the merman his life in the sea; even if his stitches weren’t waterproof… were they? There was only one way to find out.

 

“You want to go back?” His nod confirmed his suspicions. Could he speak? Could he understand what he was asking him? Was he just shy? The merman nodded slowly, his gaze falling to the sand in a mixture of confusion and concentration, as if reconsidering his answer. Kristoff folded his hands around his knees for a good minute before the merman nodded again, a little more forcefully.

 

“I’m going to pick you up,” He stood up slowly. “Okay?” The merman nodded, his eyes wide for a split second before relaxing.

 

His large hands scooped the merman up with little to no difficulty, the creature focusing on the sea with distracted eyes, as if he was trying to avoid looking at something else. Kristoff trudged forward, peeling off his large galoshes when there was only a few feet to go before the waves of the sea crested and fell to meet the sand. A strong wind blew across the beach as the fisherman entered the water, the merman shivering from cold breeze. Still he refused to tear his gaze from the rolling waves, and Kristoff kept looking forward as well. After five minutes of silence, they were out to the point of the fisherman’s waist, wavelets curving around him as if confronted by a giant mountain. His grip slackened, the merman slipping unceremoniously into the water as the sun began to set over the horizon.

 

“You should go.” Kristoff nearly mumbled, looking out at the water as if the merman had friends that were waiting for him to join them. The merman cast a nod at the glowing surface of the sea, the light of the sun’s rays reflecting on the rolling waves. Yet he stayed where he was, his gaze conflicted.

 

“When you get back, wait awhile before taking those out. A few days and your tail should be as good as new.” He gestured to the mute creatures tail as it swayed silently underwater, clouds of sand and mud rolling around them from the displaced water. He nodded, looking down at the tail aquamarine tint to his scales as if noticing them for the first time.

 

“Um, I… I’m really sorry about this. I didn’t know you were down-” Kristoff had his apology cut short by the mermans lips pressing against his. The kiss was brief; almost painfully so. In an instant the handsome merman had disappeared beneath the waves, his tail waving in the air as he splashed forth and leaving the fisherman with his eyes wide in surprise.

 

For a moment, Kristoff could only watch the waves from where he stood in the waist deep water, the salty tang from the merman still on his lips. He cupped a cheek to where the bruise on his jaw had begun to fade, wondering what could be going through that strange merman’s head. Was that simply an act of thanks? Was that how mermaids thanked people? How was he to know? What was with his silence? Was he shy? In shock? Both?

 

Kristoff shook his head and most of the questions dissipated, leaving him alone to contemplate just what had transpired to leave him deserving of affection from something he’d gravely injured.

 

***

 

There was a typhoon of emotions that greeted Hans throughout the rest of his evening. On the swim to find his guard (who, thankfully, didn’t notice the stitches on his tail) he had felt a sense of euphoria, the kiss he’d given his savior acting as some kind of switch to his own happiness. He’d been conflicted on what he would do or what he would say to thank the fisherman when the words he thought of in every possible scenario seemed so painfully awkward. In his mind they’d sounded even more ridiculous, and his stammering nervousness would not have helped. Of course, him blacking out and not waking up was how he’d expected it to go. The fact that the fisherman hadn’t killed him was enough to earn respect, but healing him? There were no words that could be used to describe that sort of happiness. Hans would’ve liked to admit it was awkward enough to even look at the handsome man, but Anna came back to him every time he considered even looking the human in the eye. Something about him was so… appealing. Hans couldn’t even describe the feeling it seemed so foreign.

 

There was an uncontrollable urge to see him again, even once. He had been so kind and good and was so god-like-

 

Hans’ eyes shot open from where he was floating in his garden, the colorful coral and sealife coming into focus almost instantaneously. Was he gay? No. He had Anna. They were to be married. He’d never felt lust towards another man before. No, he’d never felt lust towards another merman before. Was that the only difference? Was it because he’d healed him? Saved him? Was it just that: lust, or was there something else?

 

The merprince shook his head, denying the possibility. He wasn’t attracted to the fisherman.

 

“He was just… good looking. That’s all.” He mumbled.

 

Even if it wasn’t that, why did he still want to see him? What caused him to long for the fisherman? There had to be something he could repay his kindness with.

  
“Just repay him. Then you’ll feel fine.” Hans said to himself as he swam back towards the glow of the Baltica palace. But suddenly the prince paused. Repay him… with what?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more of an introductory piece for Elsa. WARNING: Mentions of homophobia in this chapter.

The lashing of rain soaked her to the bone. The howling of the wind screamed in anger at the ship to give up and sink, wavelets lapping around the wooden decks rails. Elsa struggled to keep her footing, the slippery surface leaving her performing a strange dance on the deck as her feet slid in strange contortions to keep her upright. She’d already fallen numerous times, the bruises focused around her milk pale hips and sides. The storm had soaked her little nightdress to the consistency of damp tissue paper, the shouts of the sailors warning everyone to go to the lifeboats in a vain attempt to escape the merciless waters. The shadows cast from the sails in the frequent lightning blasts illuminated the little girl like a ghost. Her parents were nowhere to be found; they’d gone up beforehand to check out the commotion above, leaving Elsa in charge of her sister for the time being.

 

Of course Anna had pouted when she couldn’t follow her parents, but Elsa had managed to keep her calm despite her initial rejection. But unfortunately, this had only worked for a short amount of time, and Anna found herself grappling with her older sister over leaving the dwindling safety of the cabin. Elsa refused again to let her leave, but that was only a moment before the lights had snuffed out from the door popping open, allowing the curious five year old to race across the deck and directly into harm's way. The instant she had left Anna had disappeared; like a figment of her older sisters imagination. Her sister gone, Elsa did the only thing she could do: look for her despite the risks.

 

She screamed her little sister's name over the howling wind, stumbling over with the rocking motions of the ship to the side rail, her platinum blonde bangs clouding her vision. For a moment Elsa contemplated whether or not her parents had possibly found her and taken a lifeboat like the sailors on the ship had been ordering them to.

 

It had been a routine crossing to the Southern Isles from the town of Havverden where they called home, her father’s prosperous inventions allowing them to travel between the two small nations and occasionally farther to present working prototypes and earn patents to the wealthy benefactors willing to invest. Elsa had initially hated the idea of traveling by sea, but they had been doing it almost every two months since her third birthday. A rented merchant's ship became commonplace in both her and Anna’s memories. Storms occasionally blew by, but they usually did just that. This had been completely out of nowhere, and two days into leaving the harbor and the safety of their little apartment in the crowded city.

 

The rolling thunder and flashing lighting blinded and deafened the eight year old from the rest of the world, her voice cracking as two large hands closed around her waist and hoisted her up off the tipping deck. She screamed at the touch in surprise and kicked at the source, the burly cussing of a sailor drowned out by another boom of thunder.

 

“Girl!” He shouted, the scent of dampness overwhelming the evening’s ration of rum. “We gotta get you to the lifeboat!” He spun her around in his large arms, gripping her tight as his words registered through the fear and desperation.

 

“What?” She squeaked, craning her head in a frantic attempt to look for her sister.

 

The sailor apparently didn’t hear her and began barreling towards the side of the ship where the large crew was assembling in and around one of the many small rowboats that looked anything but ready to face the storm despite their excellent condition. The man held her up like a lost princess and the others frantically scattered to the sides as if she were a holy figure parting the waters of some vast body of water. He unceremoniously dropped her into the lifeboat before vaulting himself aboard. With the youngest passenger aboard, the boat quickly filled up before Elsa realized her sister and parents were still nowhere to be seen in her lifeboat.  

 

“Wait!” She let out a strangled cry as one of the mariners began lowering the lifeboat, the waves tipping the ship at dangerously sharp angles. Her plea fell on deaf ears as one of the other men slid a cork life jacket over her head, slightly impeding her movement in a manner that made the girl briefly question whether or not this would drown her should she fall free from the boat in the chaos.

 

“No!” Elsa shrieked and scrambled to the side of the vessel to jump despite the obvious stupidity of her attempt. The sailor who’d gotten her to safety stopped her before she could take a step closer.

 

“No way missy!” He countered, grappling Elsa around her frail and bruised waist as if she were about to receive a spanking.

 

“My family! My sister!” She struggled in a fruitless attempt to break free of the mariners iron grip. “They’re still up there!” Elsa shouted as one of her arms broke free only to be pinned back down.

 

“They’re on one of the other boats girl! You just calm down. They’ll be fine!”

 

The eight year old clenched her hands into fists, her teeth grinding against each other so roughly they could’ve split Roman concrete. She fought the urge to cry, punch, and vomit at the same time. The feeling of loss was already setting in. She knew somehow that nor Anna or her parents were on that boat, no matter what she could’ve told herself. They were up there; braving the storm whilst she was being whisked further and further away from them on some godforsaken rowboat. Elsa felt the salty tears stinging at her eyelids, the tresses of damp platinum blond hair irritating her eyes to the point where she cried even harder.

 

The sailor seemed to show some reaction to the little girl’s plight and offered her a damp handkerchief. Elsa sobbed and took it, using it despite the fact that doing so was completely pointless. She mumbled a thanks through her sadness as another flash of lightning illuminated the world in the dark of the storm, thunder quickly following after a moment’s pause. But with that came a loud wail. It sounded so immediately familiar to Elsa she jerked up from her premature mourning and looked over the side of the rowboat as another flash of blinding white light shone on the churning waves. Realization hit her like a tidal wave.

 

“Anna!!!” Elsa shrieked casting a hand over the lowering vessel as if it held an imaginary life preserver. She could barely see the soaked strawberry blond curls peeking up at her as the vision came closer. The rowboat splashed against the dancing sea, the oars immediately being put to use as the sailor pulled Elsa away from the boat’s rail so he could row in time with his fellow mariners. But even as she moved away Anna was still there, waving a hand above the waters treacherous embrace.

 

“Stop! We have to save her!” The little girl pleaded as she realized the men were rowing away from her sister; as if on purpose. Nobody responded to her words and so Elsa repeated him, tugging at the sleeve of the man she was still being held prisoner by. When he looked down, she cast a finger towards the spot, only for a huge wave to cover up her five year old sisters signal.

 

Elsa felt the salty tang of bile rising in her throat. The sailor seemed to notice her sudden look of discomfort, and lifted her over to the rail where she released the remnants of her lunch into the water, a sudden headache of dehydration overwhelming her despite the fact that they were drenched to the bone in water. Anna was gone. Her parents were gone. She was alone.

 

Her baby sister’s terrified blue orbs were all Elsa saw before her vision glazed over, blackness clouding the vision of her last family member as Anna dimmed away, like a fading memory, into darkness.

 

***

 

“Elsa!” Her name rang through her ears along with a sharp knock at the door. Elsa felt her cerulean blue eyes shoot open to the sound, the remnants of her dream leaving a cold sweat over the young womans slumped back. The grain of the wooden table was carved into her cheek lightly, and would no doubt be getting her more stares than usual.

 

With a small yawn she lifted her head from the table, the piles of parchment sticking to her for a moment before drifting back to the surface, the ink slightly smudged in some places but overall, still legible. Elsa craned her head at the nearby inkwell, the curved glass giving her an alien appearance in return. Despite the shifting in the face, she could still make out the faint ink smudges on her cheeks and chin, the jet black even dotting the unfortunate stray locks of platinum blonde hair she’d always arranged into a messy french braid. The knocking sounded once more, along with her name.

 

“Coming Gerda!” She called and pushed herself up from the tiny stool, wetting her fingers with her tongue in a very unladylike attempt to remove herself of the black stains despite the fact that she knew Gerda wouldn’t mind. The nursemaid always came to see her with deliveries of firewood, pies, and news. She looked through the peephole her father had installed in the front door as Olaf, the little shaggy dog, stirred in his sleep at his master’s footsteps. Judging from the emptiness of the pudgy womans arms Elsa assumed today it was news. With her appearance thrown to the wind, she opened the door to a concerned Gerda, who looked as if she fought the urge to click her tongue and scorn at the young lady’s disheveled manner.

 

But the look was quickly replaced by a giddy smile that Elsa saw all too often whenever there was good news that excited the tiny town of Havverden. Elsa leaned against the frame of the door slightly, as if waiting for the elder to tell her what had happened. Judging by the clock over the mantel, it was nearly nine in the morning. She was usually an early riser, but her latest assignment had her up well past her expected bedtime.

 

“Oh, Elsa dear something fantastic has happened!” Elsa nodded, as if giving the older woman permission to continue as Olaf nudged the back of her leg with a whimper, as if hiding behind a wall from the familiar elder.

 

“That fisherman who lives down the road,” She paused for a moment and looked at the porch, as if recalling something.

 

“Kristoff?” Elsa suggested leaning a hand down to stroke the tense creature and sooth his nervousness.

 

“Yes! He caught something amazing! A fish the size of a house, probably!” Elsa felt her eyes widen despite the audacity of her friends claim. The surprise faded quickly, the suspicion and doubt catching up her. But not quick enough for Gerda to notice.

 

“You don’t believe me? He’s got that fish at his dock, giving out free samples. Says he doesn’t know what to do with it.” Elsa raised an eyebrow, the doubt fading slightly, but not by much.

 

“And that’s not even the strangest part. He says a mermaid lured it for him to catch; something about repaying him.” The young woman took a tentative step out onto the porch, the word mermaid catching her attention. Gerda noticed the mixture of pain and hope in her glowing orbs and placed a hand on hers, her gaze falling to the rough planks of the porch as the memory came back to the both of them.

 

“Now dear,” She frowned as Elsa turned towards the sea, taking her hand free of her comforting grip. “You miss your sister; we all do-” She stopped short as the young woman sent her a cold glare that she was well known for.

 

“We?” She chuckled mirthlessly. “Who’s we?”

 

Realistically, when the definition was applied to the situation, the word we never did qualify in the case of Anna Arendelle or her parents. Havverden was town where the stitches of monochromatic yarn were tightly woven like the families and businesses, the connection there, no matter how distant. The Arendelle family had, more or less, been an an extra stitch thrown into the crochet that was, like any extra stitch, either completely overlooked, or scorned at until someone had the nerve to snip it off. So far, no one had attempted running the misfit family from Havverden. Whether or not they would remained to be seen, but Elsa’s life had just begun to turn itself around recently, so she hoped, if only for a while, they would set their torches aside and allow her to blissfully exist outside their radar. Despite the fear being irrational, the young woman knew to Havverden, only four people seemed to care for her in a manner that could be considered family.

 

The two most obvious souls in the town were Kai and Gerda, the older couple that owned the local inn and tavern in the hamlets center. They had been very good friends of the Arendelle family throughout their many years of trade between the city and the town, her father having been looking for investors for one of his newer inventions: a system of electrical currents that burned on oil lamps. Nobody in the little town took notice of the new and possibly dangerous technology except for Kai, who was down to his last strand of patience with constantly dripping candles. The strategy worked beautifully, but nobody else seemed to notice, even if Kai and his wife did. Elsa had lost count in her lonely childhood the number of times she’d spent baking cookies in the inn’s kitchen with Gerda or climbing into the rafters of the tavern to help maintain the inevitable fraying of the copper coils that carried the current across the lofty ceiling with Kai as her guide. With her real parents but a distant memory, they seemed to become more and more like family as the years of kindness began to warm her to the friendly couple.

 

The second most trusted person she held dear was the sailor who had saved her that evening where she’d lost everything. His name was revealed the next day of rowing to be Jakob, and Elsa instantly warmed to him as he comforted her throughout the journey to land, letting her cry only when she simply couldn’t hold it, warning her she was dehydrated enough. He told her stories of his times on the sea, of how mermaids saved humans from drowning and how Anna and her parents were probably wandering a beach right then looking for her. Elsa took some comfort in the myth, and her eight year old mind slowly took her to accept it as fact. The marimen told her of his family back in Havverden, consisting of a son named Jorg and a daughter named Johanna, and his wife who was then pregnant with her third. But happy times couldn’t last. Upon coming back to the little seaside village his wife promptly went into labor, but couldn’t handle the pain; taking both herself and the baby from the grief stricken sailor. Elsa quickly returned the favors he had done for her the evening after losing her entire family, and while the attempts initially failed, the man recovered after a period of months. In that time she’d bonded significantly with Jorg and Johanna, earning their friendship when Elsa was sure she never would. Jakob often joked around with the other men later that Jorg might end up courting the winter beauty. Little did he know how wrong he would be.

 

Johanna was slim, healthy, and shared her father’s soft brown hair and pale green eyes. She was a year younger than Elsa at the time of them meeting, and the two young girls got the ball rolling immediately with hours spent giggling in the small loft space of the little cabin whilst Jakob was out with Jorg chopping wood or fishing. They would tell eachother secrets, make up little imaginary worlds in which their peasant status was elevated to something at the level of the queens of France. They would read, draw, write, and do nearly everything together. In a way, Johanna was like the sister Elsa lost; albeit a fair bit more cautious in her pursuits, and therefore the ideal little sister to the older girl. Whereas Anna was near reckless in her adventures and this often led to injury, Johanna was best at using forethought, which made pain or possibly death a much less likely ordeal. It was a personal relief and blessing to Elsa not to have to painstakingly watch her friend to make sure she would do something without falling flat on her face. Of course, less likely didn’t mean never. There were numerous times where the brunette had been careless and gotten herself hurt, but Elsa could hardly blame her. After all, she’d often ended up leading them both to have those injuries. Every time they presented a scrape, bump, or bruise to Kai, Jakob, or Gerda, the latter would remark how similar the injuries seemed before they came to realize both were at fault.

 

They had been thirteen when the concept of courting was thrust upon them in the oddest and darkest of forms: by Jorg announcing he was courting a boy. It had been announced plainly enough at the dinner table that it almost went unnoticed. Elsa and Johanna were sitting at the table with Kai and Gerda on the other side and Jorg sitting at the end with his father opposite him. It had taken a moment for the words and realization to sink in on every adult at the table and silent shock prevailed as if the teenager had begun speaking in tongues. Elsa and Johanna had stopped their conversation after a moment and followed the adult's gaze to the pre adolescent at the end of the table, who continued to eat as if he’d said nothing. Jakob stood up curtly, and went to the opposite end of the table where his son sat, grabbed him by the arm, and lead him outside into the snowy evening. The wind covered the sharp cries of the fourteen year old as the remaining people gravely understood what the father was doing, but only Johanna ran outside at the realization, leaving the rest of them in stunned silence as the sounds continued for another ten, agonizingly uncomfortable minutes. Nobody saw the family for the rest of the night.

 

The next few days there was no sign of Jorg, Jakob having returned with Johanna in hand the next morning. Kai and Gerda kept their distance for a fair bit of time before allowing Elsa to go back and see what had transpired. She then found the younger girl cleaning blood from her brothers back in the loft space while her father was out fishing for the day. The lash marks of a belt were clear on the tender flesh of the boy as he whimpered with each touch. It was gruesome, but it was mended with Elsa quickly joining in on helping her best friend close up the massive lengths of beaten and bruised skin. That night as the father came home with a netful of catches over his back, he found his son in the loft and carried him down to his bed, apologizing profusely for his actions before taking over nursing duty while the girls saw to it that the fish were cooked in an odd form of celebration. It took awhile for Jorg to say anything about that night, the scars on his back still evident as they all matured. He later broke it off with the boy, choosing instead to leave the monochromatic streets of Havverden for something more fulfilling than a lifetime of catching and killing sea life. Of course, this was after Elsa and Johanna had begun seeing each other, and Johanna often joked her brother just couldn’t take another relationship forming when he’d just broken his. Thankfully for the lovers, their respective guardians couldn’t care less about Elsa and Johanna becoming a couple. But although they were together, there were still things in their relationship that they needed to hide from the rest of the town. And no matter how it annoyed her significant other, Elsa reminded Johanna they were lucky enough to not be dead for how they felt about one another.

 

“You know very well there are people that care about you, Elsa.” Gerda wrapped her in a hug. She wanted to argue against, it, but found no logic could break the elders words.

 

“Now dear,” Gerda smiled at her. “What were you working on in there?”

 

Elsa sighed. “Just some letters. Pacifying benefactors is hardly an easy feat.”

 

“I’m assuming you don’t want my bothering you any longer?” Elsa reluctantly nodded. As much as she appreciated the woman’s company, her letters were already delayed as they were. Another day and she may lose them.

 

“I understand. You get back to work. You know where I am if you need me.”

 

And with that, Gerda turned and walked off the porch and back towards the town. Elsa stood there for a moment, the door still wide open with Olaf poking his white, shaggy head through her legs. She absentmindedly stroked the little dog and closed the door, turning back to her letters. Jakob had once told her that a trade was the most valuable thing she could have. Should she not learn to focus her efforts and talents, she would be robbing the world of a special person to contribute to it. She’d long ago ruled out fishing, lumber, or anything that would cost her her virginity. Johanna had offered that she come and join her in the field of ice harvesting, but Elsa politely declined, all the while keeping a watchful eye. Though she trusted her lover to come back safely, there would always be a twinge of worry every time she saw the group of men and few women journeying off for days at a time, their sleds returning bursting at the seams with blocks of the transparent gold. Her helping out around the inn paid for the weekly amount of amenities and food, but her only form of income that wasn’t based solely in her friends was repairing clocks and mechanical things for a decent price, as Havverden wasn’t big enough to have an official clock maker or repairman. She was grateful for the unofficial job, but still invented from what her father had left her. Her little widgets had earned her a strange reputation throughout the town that added to her mystique and thankfully, earned her the attention of investors from the big cities. But she hadn’t been able to send prototypes to all of them, and a few were getting crabby about her lack of response. In her defense, it had been her family's anniversary only a few days prior, so she hadn’t the time to think of anything else.

 

But even so, her personal life didn’t stop them from threatening to pull back their funding.

  
Right as Elsa sat down, she felt a wave of sadness wash over her. She had to get this done, even if she was distracted by other things. They could cut off her money, true. But when would an opportunity like this ever present itself again? The thought of Gerda’s news brought her to stand up, and push the letters to the side. She’d find Anna. And she knew exactly where to start looking.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated this fanfic in a while. I've had stuff on my plate.

The massive fish that Kristoff had caught was slowly but surely cut and spread throughout Havverden, the shear amount of meat that it provided more than enough to feed the entire town twice over. The iceman hardly cared to keep the fish when he caught it, knowing he wouldn’t be able to put a thing that big on ice and even if he could he was only one man. It wasn’t as if his family needed food, or would accept fish anyhow. So the first thought that occurred to Kristoff was to sell it by the pound, along with the story of how he’d come across such a massive haul. Why he told it wasn’t for any particular reason except the people’s curiosity. His neighbors easily noticed the glacier sized fish sitting on his dock and it took all of ten minutes for word to spread through the small hamlet like a wildfire. Of course there was fame to it, but the fisherman was hardly social even when it came to his achievements. So he simply stood near his barn whilst onlookers haggled over silly guesses about the fish's weight or how easy it must’ve been to catch such a stunning creature, only coming up to him to confirm that he was in fact the owner of the fish and how much he wanted for a slice to take home with them.

 

Seeing the interest the townspeople had in the fish quickly led to an escalating price as bit by bit, the size was reduced from glacier to sled, from sled to dog, and finally leaving enough for Kristoff to cut the bidding short and scoop up what was left for his own dinner. There were a fair amount of bones left by the end of the day, and Kristoff simply left them by the path in the likely case someone would take them and use them for a boat or something like the Sami probably had many years before.

 

Preparing fish wasn’t hard for Kristoff to do. He’d caught, gutted, and pretty much lived off the stuff with the exception of a little garden he mostly grew carrots and lettuce in. There were so many ways to consider such a fine specimen and how to make it last. There was drying, making it into a porridge,even frying it should he choose to. In the end he ended up just making a fiskesuppe with what he had left in the cupboards. He was right about to sit down and enjoy his gift from the merman when a knock on his door called his attention.

 

Slightly annoyed from having been pulled away from his food, the fisherman grunted as he stood up, trudging over to the door and not bothering to check if he was scowling when he answered.

 

“Are you Kristoff?” The young woman asked him with a regal voice that sounded as if she was pulling courage from somewhere deep within.

 

“Yes, I’m pretty sure if you live in this town, you’d know my name by now.” He grumbled the last part, knowing that what he’d managed in that day would probably be talked about for years or even generations to come. He almost shivered at the thought. The last thing he wanted was a spotlight focused on him, even if it came with fabulous amounts of wealth. The girl looked down at the ground, as if she’d said something to offend him, then took a quick breath and looked at him again, her cerulean blue eyes boring into his grumpiness.

 

“May I come in?” She questioned, Kristoff noticing her hands were tucked within one another, as if she was unsure about what she was going to do.

 

He sighed. “You have a name, right?”

 

“Elsa,” She paused. “Elsa Arendelle.”

 

Kristoff paused as a bell went off in his head. Was this that girl people were always gossiping about? There were rumors of her and her oddness that floated around like plankton. Elsa Arendelle was certainly painted out to be a character indeed, but Kristoff refused to pass judgement. It wasn’t his place.

 

So with that, he nodded, and moved back into his hut as the young woman timidly entered his dwelling. Despite the fact that he wasn’t social, she obviously wanted something, and he had enough to spare, so…

 

“Do you want something to eat? I just fixed up some of that fish.” He found himself offering as Elsa shrugged off her indigo cloak and hung it on one of the empty pegs Kristoff had installed by the door. She shook her head, the messy platinum blonde braid shifting as she stood there, as if contemplating whether or not to sit down.

 

“Go ahead.” He replied to her uneasiness, and she sat down on one of the big armchairs Kristoff had built despite the fact that he was the only person living here and rarely had company.

 

She was about an foot shorter, and far smaller and much more wiry than the bulky fisherman. Her skin was so pale and delicate Kristoff thought for a split second that if she fell she would shatter into a million little pieces like a porcelain jug. Taking his bowl of soup from the dining table, he sat down in the armchair opposite her and began to eat as her gaze fell to the floor. She looked several times as if she were about to get up and leave, as if she were Jack having just realized the implications of journeying to a giant that would grind her bones for his bread. Kristoff felt more than awkward just sitting there with his food and her just waiting for him to be finished. Conversation between the two didn’t begin until the fisherman had cleaned his bowl and stored the remainder in ice after she politely declined another offer at something to eat. It was almost irritating that she was just sitting there, doing absolutely nothing but making Kristoff uncomfortable.

 

“So I’m assuming the matter of conversation is something important.” Kristoff flopped back down in his respective chair as Elsa seemed to perk up at his words. “After all, I’m pretty sure you didn’t come here to watch me eat.”

 

“No, I didn’t.” She shook her head slightly, her eyelids narrowing. Thinking back to her original plan, why hadn’t she planned to come later? Then she would’ve at least been able to fill out another letter to her benefactors instead of watching this burly and somewhat pungent man eat his famous catch for nearly an hour.

 

“Then what do you want?”

 

Elsa thought for a moment. There were many things she wanted, but none so as important as her sister. “You’ve heard rumors of my family, correct?”

 

He nodded, and she frowned, despite the obvious fact that they were popular rumors and he was bound to have heard. “I’m assuming you know the one about my sister, then.” Again, Kristoff nodded.

 

“And you know the entire village has heard of your… shall we call it a feat?” She proposed, relaxing a bit. “You said that a merman lured the fish to you.”

 

“I’m pretty sure.” He shrugged. In truth Kristoff knew it was the merman he’d saved and healed. He’d swam up with the fish tailing behind, despite his obvious efforts of trying not to be seen. Why exactly the creature sought to repay him with something so large, beautiful and somewhat irritating, he didn’t know.

 

“Really? Just ‘pretty sure’?” Elsa retorted, her eyes seeming to darken a bit as she leaned off the chair, focusing on the large fisherman. If she was trying to intimidate him, it was working.

 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Kristoff sighed. “But what does that have to do with Anna Arendelle?” He questioned with no real interest in the answer. Elsa seemed to notice this and scowled at him.

 

“Tell me, Kristoff Bjorgman. Do you have a family?” The way she asked told the fisherman that somehow she wasn’t asking about the trolls.

 

“No. Not that I’d remember.” He answered quietly.

 

“Well then I suppose you're lucky.” She chuckled mirthlessly. “Because unlike you I remember every waking moment what the sea took from me and I have to bear that brunt alone.” Her tone was icy and Kristoff suddenly felt remorse.

 

“I’m sorry. Go on.” The fisherman apologized, his gaze falling to the floor for a moment as Elsa seemed to warm a bit.

 

“I want my sister back.” She stated bluntly, as if saying so would make Anna appear in the living area before the both of them. Kristoff held back a sarcastic remark. “And I want your help.” Elsa continued. Kristoff frowned at her, unsure what he could say in response.

 

“You have a plan?” He raised a blonde eyebrow.

 

“And you have a merman.” She crossed her arms. After a moment of silence Elsa sighed in irritation that the fisherman wasn’t catching on.

 

“I think that this merman you’ve earned the trust of could tell me about my sister. Surely he would know something about her? She was last seen in the same bay, so I doubt she wouldn’t have gone unnoticed.”

 

“It’s a big ocean, Elsa. I think you’re getting your hopes up. To be honest it sounds kind of-” He cut himself off at seeing the icy glare the young woman was sending him.

 

“Crazy?” She offered, her tone not at all amused. Kristoff said nothing.

 

“I’ve been called that often by the people of this town, and I’m tired of it. If I can get my sister back at least I won’t be alone anymore. Unlike you I prefer company to solitude.”

 

This caught Kristoff off guard. If anything she seemed like a loner. She was restricted, pale, silent, like him in almost every way. “I’m not alone. I have family.” He frowned at her.

 

“Then you’d know we’re not all that different Kristoff. We both have ‘family’ but they can’t compare to what we’ve lost. I have a lover, I have friends, I have adoptive parents. But they can’t ever compare to what I once had because no matter how much I fool myself, they can’t replace my real parents, my real sister. Ever.”

 

The fisherman fell silent at this. She could remember her past where as he couldn’t. She knew what she’d lost because she’d grown up with real parents, a real sister, a real family. He’d never know that, and frankly, he was almost grateful that he didn’t. Almost.

 

“Well what do you expect me to do?” He looked up from his feet at Elsa.

 

“We find a way to talk to your merman friend.” She replied simply. “And find out what he knows about my sister. If he doesn’t, then I’ll leave without complaint.” The girl felt as if she were saying this simply to put the fisherman and herself at ease when in reality, she knew she wouldn’t give up on her sister when the opportunity came, even if that opportunity wasn’t filled with the rewards she’d expected. Anna meant too much to her to give up now. But for now, these words would have truth and meaning.

 

“So what do you want in return?” She asked after a moment of silence in which she noticed Kristoff was considering her offer. He snapped up from his concentration.

 

“In return?” He asked as if the words were foreign to him.

 

Elsa nodded. “If you help me I can’t just leave you with nothing. I may have a reputation in this stupid town but I’m willing to pay a price.”

 

The fisherman paused, rubbing the microscopic amount of blonde stubble on his chin in deep thought. He’d already gotten notoriety, gold, and enough fish and compliments to last him many lifetimes; or at least until winter. But the more he thought about it, the more he didn’t like the idea of payment. It was an odd feeling to him, but they weren’t very different as Elsa had pointed out. She just wanted her real family back. In ancient customs, one would trade an eye for an eye, but since he had absolutely no idea where to begin on his own respective family, it left him with no real reason to be payed.

 

“I don’t think I need anything-”

 

“Please. It’s the least I can do.” Elsa cut him off.

 

“But we haven’t even started anything yet.” Kristoff countered. “You don’t even know if this will work.”

 

Elsa grinned hopefully. “So? It’s best to make your deals before doing them.”

 

The fisherman crossed his arms. “Let’s just make it an I.O.U. until then.” He held out a hand to the young woman, and she took it, nodding in response. “First, I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. We’ll meet in the morning.”

 

***

 

Elsa was disheartened at the way things were going, and she tried her best not to show it. To put on a mask. To hide her small frown or her sudden lack of gusto or hope. Unfortunately for her, Kristoff was an observant man, and his words of comfort made her realize with bitterness that she couldn’t keep things very well hidden. Like Anna always had been.

 

“I just hope this family of yours knows what could help.” She responded with as much confidence as she could muster as Sven rode deeper into the forest and farther from civilization.

 

“I’m pretty sure they will. Mermaids are a common thing around here.” He made the last comment without even knowing if there was truth to it. In all honesty merpeople seemed like the occasional bear that wandered into Havverden. There were probably more around, but if there were, they weren’t making themselves known. Kristoff was sure if there was a solution to something as complicated as breaking a language barrier, but that wasn’t exactly the problem.

 

Upon appearing, stitches and all, Kristoff introduced him to Elsa, who stood timidly behind him as if Hans had the ability to walk right out of the water and kill her with one cold stare. Of course, she was just as nervous and frightened as Kristoff had been, but if she was aware of her shock, it seemed to have faded after a few moments of explaining the situation and their deal.

 

The merman opened his mouth as if he could speak, but only dry oxygen escaped from his near microscopic gills. This seemed to confuse everyone including the merman, who, despite his outburst upon Kristoff catching him, was now unable to advocate for himself aside from a nod or shake of his head to the humans who waded in his vast, blue home. It took a moment before disappointment surfaced on both the fisherman and the girls features at the realization that Hans couldn’t say anything. Thankfully, the creature seemed to understand, (and he very well did) what his newfound friends were telling him and what they wanted his role in their plan to be. It was exciting and exhilarating for Hans, who hadn’t really been the star role of anything thanks to his brothers and the sheer amount of naysayers who doubted he’d amount to something.

 

And the best part in all this for the merman was he got to see Kristoff again, even if he’d fooled himself into thinking simply repaying him would satisfy his desires.

 

Of course, for his partners, the best part was yet to be seen.

 

But Kristoff knew that they would face hurdles going into something that was so premature and no doubt complicated. He was sure Elsa knew that as well, being as levelheaded as she was. The mechanic had taken the whole venture and disappointment far better than the fisherman had expected before a dark cloud began to rain down on her pale skin and cerulean blue eyes. But so far, she seemed to be willing to continue in her plan, which Kristoff found himself admiring. Something told him that any normal person would’ve either moped around for days or given up completely. Not having any true siblings, Kristoff wasn’t sure what it felt to lose something he’d, in a sense, never had. For that, he counted himself lucky. Rock trolls would easily outlive him for centuries.

 

The grotto that held the Valley of the Living Rock was rumored to be as old as time itself, the ancient trees and rock formations reminiscent of some lost civilization. The formations themselves were curiously aligned in a manner that was unoticable at a quick glance, realization only coming to someone who had spent time in the valley. Someone like Kristoff. That being said he was the closest humankind had ever been to the mythical creatures, the tales and rumors equal in size to that of merpeople. The only true difference for humans was the fact that they knew trolls existed, the rock-like people appearing only before those that could pay to have their powerful serums and medicinal properties exploited for personal use. Despite the connection though, trolls remained the stuff of legends. Kristoff and Elsa had both heard their fair share in the street corners and taverns. Of course, knowing them as well as he did, the fisherman found that there was little truth to those tall tales that were about as real as… well, until three days ago mermaids.

 

Sven pulled the sled to a slow stop as they reached the valley, jets of hot steam geysers popping up in telltale holes. Moss padded underfoot as the humans dismounted from the back of the reindeer, taking a moment to brush the shedding off before beginning the short trek to the amphitheatre-like grotto where the trolls gathered, ate and slept. Kristoff had told Elsa what to expect upon arrival, but despite her compliance, she was still a little unnerved by the existence to trolls as well as mermaids.

 

In Elsa’s mind the existence of such legends and lore would seem to be just that even given physical proof. She found skepticism in nearly everything that didn’t fit into logic and reason. She was simply not a believer of things she thought impossible. But if anything, these past few days had torn two ginormous holes in her little bubble of reality, and the young woman knew in order to keep her head, she would need to guide herself carefully down the new paths these holes had offered her. Elsa knew it was simply a veil that was being drawn back to show her science and logic couldn’t explain everything, and despite her doubts, she needed to put them aside should she ever hope to find her sister in the infinite realms of trolls or merpeople.

 

Upon reaching the steps of the valley, the only sound that greeted them was the distant whistle of steam and the minute gushing of waves from the river that flowed nearby. Not a single sound emanated from the piles of mossy rocks that littered the dip in the ground like scattered rubble. But on closer inspection and a few more steps, Elsa noticed that the stones were grouped oddly, single rocks scattered between what seemed to be piles as if those stones in particular were a group or family. Another thing she found slightly unsettling was the likeness of the supposedly sleeping trolls was next to impossible to tell apart. Everyone of them had the same cluster of moss, and was shaped in the exact form of a clay sphere dropped from the heavens: slightly flattened, but still round and with some minor blemishes or cracks. They seemed to be snoring, the slight rumble of the ground beneath the trios feet isolated to the valley and nowhere else.

 

Kristoff sighed and clapped his hands loudly, motioning for Elsa to do the same as he called out urging commands to wake up. Sven even began stomping his hooves to the mossy ground. Even something as simply as this raised so many questions for the one outsider. But in spite of her confusion, the blonde followed the fisherman's motions as slowly but surely, the rocks began to roll and tumble.

 

As they reached the sources of the interruptions, the rocks began to unroll like pill bugs to reveal tufts of grass and bulbous features. A look of terror flashed across Kristoff’s face and he suddenly shouted to Elsa to brace herself. The blonde only had a moment to do so before a loud chant came from one of the female trolls.

 

“He’s brought a girl!” Elsa felt herself flush as she took a cautionary step back and towards Sven, the sheer number of joyous faces focused on her startling the young woman in her state of realization.

 

“No, no, no, no no!” Kristoff quickly corrected the trolls before anything could begin. Thankfully, for once, the trolls listened to him. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of Jorg.

 

Silence prevailed for a moment as a few of the female trolls wandered up to Elsa anyhow, complimenting her on her hair and such before a motherly looking one with a necklace of sparkling mauveine crystals commented on the girls paleness and that she should eat something. Elsa seemed to take no offense from this and nodded at Kristoff before his mother dragged her by a hand off to someplace nearby. For a moment Kristoff took a breath and thanked the stars that Elsa wasn’t bothered by his family yet.

 

The fisherman looked around the sea of his overeager cousins and siblings for his grandfather. When he didn’t see him after a moment of hard concentration, he indulged in some of his family's newest stories about how Pewter had fallen into the river or about when Cliff rejected some of Bulda’s must-try-or-face-her-wrath casserole that was well known for causing pain whether it be from the stomach irritation or the hounding one would get from rejecting her cooking. He ended up lasting all of ten minutes before standing up and asking one of his relatives if they knew where Grand Pabbie was.

 

“Amber, please. Can you fetch Grand Pabbie? We need some assistance.” The troll with a birthstone matching her name nodded and scurried off to who knew where before the fisherman found himself ensnared once more by his overbearing family.

 

“Kristoff! Wanna see my crystals?”

 

“Kristoff! How’s the business?”

 

“Kristoff! Is that mud on your pants?”

 

In all the years he’d gone through alone, it was hard to say he didn’t miss those days where his companion's only voice was the voice he’d given him. Then again, they were his family. There were tradeoffs to be had, even if they were a bit involved in his love life since he’d moved away from the valley. In times of silence he wondered if it was simply because he was different from them. That he was human. If their constant fascination with his own life stemmed from the obvious fact that he was a man in a crowd of rock trolls. It’d dogged him in the back of his mind ever since they’d informally adopted him, but the fisherman supposed he’d never know for sure.

 

The tug on his sleeve brought his attention to the motion, the grey stone fingers of his adopted grandfather and the chief of the trolls, whom nearly everyone called Grand Pabbie. His features were older and more bulbous than most of the other trolls, but then again he was the oldest troll in the tribe at nearly 400. There was constantly knowledge with those infinite black pupils, the visions of the past choosing to dance in stories he told the youths. He had long, drying grass tufts on his head and adorning his neck like a collar, a length of saffron yellow crystals draped around his neck to signify his position as chief. The final symbol of authority was a long, swirling green cape made from knitted moss that trailed behind him slightly by a few inches.

 

“Kristoff, you called for me?” He asked, his voice rough with gravel. The fisherman nodded, stooping down to his grandfather's height on one knee.

 

“Yeah. I need to know some things about merpeople.” He shifted a bit as he checked the rock he was about to sit on. After all, some of the older trolls were woken up only when he put weight on them, and he hardly wanted to make that sort of mistake like he once had with great uncle Marcasite.

 

“What do you need to know?”

 

“Can they speak?” The elder paused, his mouth forming a line of concentration as if he were recalling a memory. He nodded. Kristoff frowned.

 

“Then how come I couldn’t get one to speak? He seemed to be able to say something.”

 

“He?” Pabbie raised an eyebrow. Kristoff shrugged, not seeing how it could matter unless his grandfather thought he was in love. It was no secret to either of them that Kristoff had had male and female companions.

 

“Please, it’s not like that.” He shook his head.

 

“Of course it isn’t.” The troll chief said plainly. “Could he just be shy?”

 

“No, I don’t think that’s it.” Kristoff ran a hand through his blonde mane. “He looked surprised when he couldn’t say anything.” Grand Pabbie raised and eyebrow which earned a frown from his adopted grandson. “Really! He opened his mouth and nothing came out but air.”

 

A low rumble came from the chief as Kristoff realized he was laughing. “What’s so funny?”

 

It took a moment for Pabbie to calm down. “My boy, you know the answer. Tell me, what is your occupation?” Kristoff looked confused.

 

“Fishing.”

 

“And what,” The elderly troll continued with a chuckle. “Do creatures of the sea use to breath?”

 

“I can’t be telling me it’s that simple.”

 

“It is.” The troll seemed to become more serious. “Unless you intend to change that.” When the fisherman didn’t respond, the chief cleared his throat.

 

“Well can you? That’s kind of why we came.” Pabbie turned his head slightly so it was facing away from his grandson, his dark eyes falling to the mossy ground below as if he’d recalled a tragic outcome of his magic, faced with the burden once more.

 

“There is.” Kristoff concluded, his eyes narrowing slightly. The chief faced him, his buck tooth tucked under his upper lip in angst. He nodded.

 

“There very well is, but as with every magic spell, it comes with a price. The biology of merpeople is a fragile thing. Their gills are their respiratory system, and their main channel of water. And while they are able to absorb water through their skin, they cannot survive on just that. The only solution to removing gills is to change them entirely. From a merman to a human.”

 

“And while it certainly is feasible, and while there is a potion that can achieve such a thing, it can only be done for a maximum of seven days. Whatever you must obtain from him must be done so in the time allotted.”

 

“And what happens when those seven days are up?” Kristoff found himself curious.

 

“I cannot say. It’s only been used a handful of times and the people that requested the potions never returned to say anything unsatisfactory.” The chief shrugged.

 

The fisherman looked around for Elsa, but didn’t see her anywhere. “Okay.” He nodded. “Can you get it?”

 

His grandfather nodded, and rolled away into the crowds of trolls. The fisherman stood up and saw Elsa nervously poking at some of Bulda’s infamous casserole. He quickly stifled a laugh, wondering how she would be feeling come morning. He’d managed to avoid that dish since he was seven and thankfully his mother had yet to make him eat it again on one of his visits. Despite that eating the stuff wasn’t in her best interest, Kristoff found himself wanting to watch her attempt to refuse the food without earning a lecture from his adopted mother and her strong jaw.

 

Instead, he watched in amusement as she ‘accidentally’ snagged a fold of her dress on the table, sending the unlucky platter of food to the ground as she apologized and got away before Bulda could offer her another helping. She managed to get to him and placed a pale hand on his shoulder for support.

 

“I don’t consider myself picky, but please,” Elsa tucked the messy french braid back over her right shoulder. “Do say something next time instead of making me earn her ire. I’d appreciate it.”

 

Kristoff chuckled. “Please, you were perfectly capable of dragging yourself away from her when you had the chance. Believe me, interfering with Ma only guarantees you a headache.”

 

The troll king rolled back up to the pair, unrolling only a few feet from them and acknowledging Elsa with a nod of his head. A vial of goldenrod liquid was pinched lightly between two rocky fingers. Kristoff lowered to one knee to take the serum, the flask barely the size of an inkwell. He swished it skeptically, if he were about to test it with a quick drink.

 

“Are you sure this will work?” He heard Elsa wonder aloud from his side.

 

“My dear, if you believe your sister is alive, you have every reason to believe this serum will get you your merman.” The troll smiled knowingly.

 

“Well what does it do?” The fisherman could hardly attempt to guess. He would be using this on a living creature. There was a level of concern his conscience had raised for the little merman he would be practically testing this stuff on.

 

“It will shut his gills, forcing him to use his mouth in breathing and allowing him vocal speech. It will also split his fins into legs and give him the… necessary parts he needs to function as a normal human.” Kristoff went red at that last part for some reason.

 

“And he’ll be able to speak?” Elsa kneeled down to examine the vial, her pale fingers brushing the glass with deep interest. The troll chief nodded.

 

“And how are we supposed to use it? He’s part fish.”

 

“You must pour the entire vial on his fins. Otherwise the transformation won’t be complete and will be frankly, quite messy.” The troll seemed to grimace slightly at the thought.  “But the whole vial should work. He will be human, and he should be able to speak.”

  
Kristoff looked at Elsa, both sets of eyes teeming with uncertainty and fear. Finally, after a moment, the fisherman’s hand closed around the flask, and he dropped it into his pocket. With a thank you surfacing from both of them, the troll king let them go with little assurance on how their premature plan would grow and form.


	5. Chapter 5

Anna wasn’t there. Hans kept reminding himself of that as he swam closer to the surface; towards the familiar barnacle swathed posts that made up the dock the fisherman, no, Kristoff, used daily. Nobody knew he was up there, and thankfully the royal physician had not asked many questions to the merprince when he initially showed up to have the fisherman's stitches removed. In fact, Hans realized nobody had asked him why he’d postponed his wedding to Anna for another week. Nobody had been suspicious of him or what he’d been doing these past few days. It was saddening, troublesome, but oh so relieving.

 

Hans stopped only a few feet from resurfacing, the only familiarity to the place he was in the swathes of discarded fish hooks that lay half buried in the muddy sand like a sea urchins quills. They were warning him. They were trying to keep him from making a mistake, as he had when he’d grown fascinated in Kristoff’s hook and wound up with a three inch scar on his tail and an unfortunate case of infatuation.

 

Of course, Hans didn’t want to take notice of the last part, but in the days that followed him luring that fish to this very pier he found himself growing more and more fascinated not only in Kristoff, but in the human world itself. He began to feel the giddiness Anna often revealed when she discovered something new, and was now more eager than ever to help his fiance procure these objects when he was once so blinded by rules and danger.

 

Anna found it a welcome change, and the nickname ‘guppy’ quickly became a thing of the past. But that didn’t mean she was completely naive.

 

Along with his growing curiosity came a sense of detachment from her and more to the objects and their purpose. It was a bitter pill for Anna to swallow, but the irony made her choke from the effort at the realization she’d been pretty much taking her lover for granted. In a few attempts, she’d tried to get closer to Hans, only for him to either turn her down or accept wholeheartedly only to get sucked into a silent void after greeting her. Eventually she simply gave up on trying and accepted Hans’ distance as some sort of phase that he would get over. She was hardly surprised when he postponed the wedding for another week, and found herself becoming more involved in Baltica and its splendid palace, mooching off of certain things that would soon be hers to enjoy when the wedding finally did happen.

 

Hans seemed completely oblivious to Anna’s sudden lack of attention towards him, and he found it nice to put his troublesome fiance out of his head for a few hours everyday. Then he had more time to focus on his new hobby and the man that sowed the seeds of it.

 

The auburn haired merman at first found himself completely conflicted and spent the entire evening in his beautiful garden, swimming back in forth in angst. Hans had attempted to solve the problem with what he assumed would get the fisherman out of his head: a massive fish as payment for what the fisherman lost when he had released him. But it unfortunately had the opposite effect on him. Hans felt even more compelled to see the fisherman by any means necessary; get his attention, maybe even share a few words. There were fantasies he’d had, dark nights turned bright when the blonde entered his mind.  It was so romantic it made Hans sick. It was sappy, mushy, utterly pathetic. But he didn’t care. Not so long as his desires were kept at bay.

 

The merman had been through so much emotionally it was a wonder nothing had seeped towards his families, or worse, the public’s, attention. Being homosexual was taboo, wrong, unnatural as it had been long ago. But Hans figured it was a phase. It would pass.

 

But while he had it, Hans wanted to suck the pleasure dry.

 

With his mind made up, the merman lifted his head from the water, the damp auburn waves being wiped clear of his vision by his hand as his vision adjusted to the bright sunlight of the surface. Hans shook his head to each side, getting the water from his ears as sounds of land became for clear, more evident.

 

Of course, there wasn’t much to hear accept a few things, but the merman was perfectly satisfied at what was washing around him, and the word came back to him with a pleasant feeling of recognition.

 

_Music._

 

In Baltica music was what a treasure was to a pirate, valuable and rewarding in every sense and way. There were performances in the palace nearly weekly, and often the entire kingdom showed up for a place in the audience of the palaces grand symphony hall. Playful tunes and soft ballads rang through the infinite halls and corridors like conversations, constantly there, and never really forgotten so long as anything; even just the chorus, was stored safely in the subjects minds.

 

Hans’ grandmother and mother in particular were both fond of music and Hans had lost count of the times he’d spent on his mother's lap as a one merman audience to her fingering of a massive lyre and humming along to the tune like a mystical siren, her own voice as enchanting and beautiful as the music itself. Music was a gift, something to be cherished and shared.

 

Apparently, Kristoff wanted to share his own music with the world. And what he had to share was definitely worth sharing.

 

His voice was calm and gentle, flowing and dipping in places like the currents of a river, the lyrics poetic and melodious as the choral pieces Hans had often favoured. Of course, there were no real lyrics to be heard. Just gentle humming and the occasional word that gave the tune meaning and purpose. As for the rest of it, Hans used his fantasies and imagination to fill in the blanks of the song with words he just thought fit to the notes and rhythm.

 

With a sigh he swam closer to the docks, entranced by the fisherman's oddly shaped instrument that seemed to be using the same basic concept of a lyre, but was completely different and foreign to the merman. It had a wooden body, the dark mahogany worn and rough from use. There were no words to describe the shape of it, Hans again at a loss to explain. The music it made sounded so... free. Like air.

 

With a wide grin the merman drifted over to a rock by the pier, still to his own assumption completely invisible. He leaned into it, the soft lengths of sponge and sludge cushioning the jet black stone like an incredibly soft pillow. Closing his eyes, he began to hum the song, the melody wrapping itself around him like the foamy sea. He could listen for hours.

 

It only got better when the fisherman added a few words to the song that made it all seem like some miraculously woven tapestry the fates had sewn just for Hans.

 

 _“Up where they walk, up where they run,”_ Hans closed his eyes tighter, visions accompanying the gentleness of the human and his music.

 

 _“Up where they stay all day in the sun. Wandering free,”_ A wave splashed against the merman.

 

 _“Wish I could be, part of that world…”_ His mind gave him the image of a god, his halo of blonde hair glowing in the light of the setting sun. His amber eyes bore deep within him with longing, as if he wished to be part of Hans’ world. He was singing of desire, of Hans’ desire. It was so romantic.

 

He only realized his mistake when the music and Kristoff suddenly stopped, and the merman opened his eyes in confusion. Those same brown eyes were focused solely on him, the odd instrument tucked to his side as the fisherman stood up to his full height. Hans felt the blood rushing to his cheeks and the tips of his fingers growing numb from fear and embarrassment. He’d seen him listening with that goofy grin on his face. Hans wished for anything that could sweep him from the fisherman's gaze.

 

A large, salty blue wave granted his wish, the merman not offering any resistance as it knocked him from his rock and into the cold waves of the harbor. Unfortunately for him, he only remembered that waves pushed towards the shore when he felt the sand brushing the tips of his scales; and by then it was too late to swim away.

 

Sand and mud chafed his freckled skin raw as the waves rolled and shoved the merprince into shallower water, his appendages unable to grasp at anything as if he were nothing more than a shell being carelessly tossed about before becoming embedded in the golden sands of the beach. There were scratches and bruises, and he was a little dazed from the motion of being beached, but overall Hans felt fine. Physically.

 

Mentally, he was horrified. He’d been caught listening in on the fisherman and his music. It was crushing to imagine that look of awkwardness that was shared between the human and him; however brief it might’ve been. But the sounds of footsteps clunking against the dock and dunes made him all the more eager to escape this painfully embarrassing moment. He flipped his tail in desperation, giving him a lifted push back towards the water, but Hans quickly realized he wouldn’t be getting out of this without Kristoff’s help. It made him angry and flushed at the same time, his anxiety quick to blame his stupid tail for stopping him from disappearing. If he had legs he’d be out of there faster than a sailfish.

 

The burly blonde towered over the beached sea creature with a stoic look on his face, his hands now devoid of the strange instrument as he looked the merman over, his observation stopping dead at the large scar that now graced his aquamarine tail.

 

“Well,” He sighed. “At least you followed my instructions.”

 

It took Hans all the effort in the world to face the human after what he’d been doing, hoping that the fisherman wouldn’t bring up the reason why he was now stuck on that stupid beach, his skin slowly dehydrating as it had last time, the blood and bruises not helping at all.

 

“Why is it that whenever you come around this pier you get injured?” Kristoff couldn’t hold back a small smile of amusement despite the severity of the situation. Hans gave him an icy glare. “Just making an observation.” He quickly covered.

 

Without another word the fisherman scooped up the merprince and began to walk back towards the water, his grip tight. With no words, the fisherman dunked the merman under the water, his skin replenishing its water source and the bleeding stopping with it for the moment. Upon being tugged back from the waves by the human, he heard an apology from him.

 

Much to his surprise and near annoyance, Kristoff continued to wade further out into the ocean, all the way out to the rock Hans had been content on. He unceremoniously dropped Hans on the rock and fished some things from his pockets, arranging them on the flat alcoves of the drenched stone in no particular order. It suddenly occurred to the merman he was about to be healed by the fisherman yet again. There was the tangy taste of bile in his throat as the man removed a dry rag from his pocket, dabbing it into a flask and rubbing it into the unhealed scratches and bruises, the alcohol stinging his tender flesh. After a few moments of silence, the fisherman spoke.

 

“You really need to be more careful… why were you here anyway?” He asked.

 

The merman focused on the rocky surface that brushed his scales and skin, his face still red from embarrassment. He was asking why Hans had been there, and gotten himself injured. It had just been an accident, but him being there to listen in on the humans ballad was entirely purposeful. It was the ‘getting caught’ part that Hans hadn’t intended, and him getting injured was merely a repercussion. It had been a warning, but he wasn’t listening to it. Unable to say what he wanted, the sea creature only shrugged. Kristoff noticed this and a look of understanding passed over his young features. A small, knowing grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

 

“Was it my music?” He raised an eyebrow as the merman looked at him with a turbulent mixture of fear and hesitation. A moment of silence passed before he nodded, a hiccup following.

 

Kristoff could tell the merman was extremely uncomfortable about that response, and he felt it best to let the matter drop. Wavelets lapped at his waist as he cleaned up the last of the scratches, pocketing the rag again. Hans seemed not to notice when he was finished, his gaze turned back to the sea he’d been separated from. With a moment of satisfaction passing between the two of them, Kristoff took the goldenrod flask, and placed a large hand on the mermans shoulder.

 

“There’s something I wanted to ask you.” Hans nodded in response. “We want to… use this.” He revealed the vial to the light of the sun. The golden liquid sparkled with unmatched flare, the color extremely appealing to even just look at. The merman raised an eyebrow and rolled his hand, and the fisherman seemed to understand.

 

“It will turn you human for a week. It’ll give you a voice. It’s not the best solution, but I wanted to ask your permission before I used it.”

 

Hans contemplated his choices. The humans had asked him to tell them what they knew about a little girl named Anna who had disappeared into the sea at a young age, possibly rescued by a mermaid. Hans knew enough ‘Anna’s’ to spend years asking if any of them were possibly turned into mermaids. It could take him an eternity to find the right person, even if she hadn’t drowned all those years ago. But despite the unlikeliness of the venture yielding something, Hans felt like he needed to accept. After all, it wasn’t every day someone asked for his help in anything. He could just turn down the offer, but that would mean losing the only two friends he’d ever really had. He’d be letting them down. He’d be letting Kristoff down. They believed he could do this, and Hans knew with the right chances he probably could.

 

But Hans knew if he accepted to something as serious as this, he’d have something he’d never truly experienced aside from companionship that he knew Anna would practically get herself killed for- adventure. His life in the palace had been a sheltered one, devoid of experiences that prepared him for the world above the water's embrace. This was the opportunity of a lifetime; to become human, and be with his friend and crush? How could he not accept it?

 

With a small gulp, the mermen felt his head nodding slowly, gradually increasing in speed at the realization of his decision. There were certainly dangers to be had, but for a chance at a new experience, Hans understood they were well worth the risks.

 

Without a word or a sound, the fisherman gave him a small smile and uncorked the flask before pouring the serum onto his tail, a glowing light erupting upon contact that lasted for only a few seconds before pulsing like a heartbeat, the glow becoming far more radiant with every blink of their eyes. The final drops cascaded in golden droplets before the pulsing suddenly ceased, and the serum dissolved into the merman's tailfins.

 

A moment passed where Hans could only look at Kristoff, the joy alight in his emerald green orbs as his grin dissolved into a fit of mute laughter, the creature suddenly wrapping the broad fisherman in an enormous hug. Tears streamed down his face for a split second and before Kristoff realized what was happening Hans was kissing him again.

 

It lasted only for a moment when the both of them realized that the effects were not instantaneous, but despite this the grins didn’t disappear even after Hans composed himself and stopped what he was doing, going red again and releasing Kristoff. The fisherman could only smile as the merman hopped free from the large rock and swam away, his aqua scales dazzling in the afternoon sun.

 

Only Elsa was watching from the docks, her smile quickly fading with the sun as dark storm clouds began to blow in from the land behind her.

 

***

 

“Elsa please, you don’t need to worry about this.” Johanna stood up from her seat in the small den, nudging a very curious Olaf away from where he lay on her stomach.

 

“We’ve been through this.” Elsa complained as she pulled the chair away from her desk as if her cloak was hiding there. “I’ve told you, I’m not going to be long.”

 

“I don’t care how long you’re gone. This is the first night I’ve been off in weeks and the last thing I want is you running off into a rainstorm.”

 

“You think I don’t know that?” Elsa mumbled as she unlatched a chest to search in there, her pale fingers rubbing against the grains of the wood. With her concentration elsewhere, her small hands rummaged through the mismatched assortment of winter cloaks that she knew were pointless to be keeping. Half were full of holes and half would do an orphanage much good.

 

The ice cutter huffed and took her mittens off of her hands, wiggling the feeling back into them as Elsa grumbled and slammed the trunk shut before striding off across the room again, her eyes filled with a reckless determination that Johanna rarely saw in her treasured lover.

 

“I don’t want you doing this.” Her voice was suddenly tense. “Whenever you get that look in your eyes it only means trouble.”

 

“I’m not going to get hurt. You know a storm’s never stopped you from going off.” She argued before triumphantly removing the cloak from a pile of blankets that were Olaf’s bed. She left a mental note to scold Olaf for taking it.

 

“Not true. I’ve only ever gone out in a storm a few times,” Her resolve began to teeter. Johanna shook her head slightly and composed herself. “But every time I’ve come back safely.”

 

“Be that as it may, I’m going. I’ll be back before you know it, alright?”

 

Johanna glared at Elsa, taking a step to her side with her hands on her hips. The mechanic knew she didn’t want her going, but answers were needed. Time was a valuable thing, and as of four hours ago, the clock had begun ticking down on the mermans time as a human. She wanted to know just why the effects hadn’t worked; at least not instantaneously. Doubt clouded her hope until she had an answer. Even if she chose to stay with her girlfriend she knew neither of them would be able to enjoy each others company with her mind elsewhere.

 

After a moment of silence, the ice cutter closed her eyes and nodded, accepting that she wouldn’t be changing her lover’s mind.

 

“Fine.” She almost spat, her voice saccharine. “But I won’t be here when you come back.”

 

This stopped Elsa dead in her tracks, her foot halfway out the door as she untucked the hood from her messy french braid. “What?” She turned around.

 

“I’m saying go.” Johanna replied. “But tonight is my one free night. If you want to run off into a thunderstorm, I’m not just going to wait around like some damsel for you to come back. If you go tonight I’ll be spending the evening with my father.” She crossed her arms. “At least then I can count on some company.”

 

Silence prevailed as she turned tail and shut the door, her pale arms reaching out from beneath the embroidered indigo cloak. Johanna didn’t pull away as Elsa hugged her, planting a kiss on her nose.

 

“I’m sorry,” She said with a low voice. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

 

The icewoman felt herself frowning, but it soon faded. With a nod of acceptance, Elsa let go of her lover before walking to the front door, only for a hand to stop her. it squeezed her cover shoulder tenderly. Elsa turned to face her girlfriend, meeting with her spring green eyes. With one swift motion, Johanna pulled the hood of the indigo cloak up. She brushed her lips on the mechanic in a quick kiss.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Was all she said, a warm smile blossoming like the first spring crocus.

 

With that, Elsa returned the smile and left her home, the first drops of rain beginning to drop from the sky.

 

***

 

It took all but ten minutes for Elsa to regret her decision to leave her house in the beginning of the storm. Her teeth were chattering into chips, her cloak offering next to no protection from the elements that continued to plague Elsa and the town of Havverden. She was soaked to the bone, her thin and simple dress nearly a blessing when the fashion of the time was multiple layers that would’ve no doubt weighed a metaphorical ton by this point in her journey. Elsa hardly hated being cold, it had never truly bothered the pale young woman as it did the other residents of the seaside village. It was the dampness that made her want to scream in agony at the clouds with every nasty word in existence. The sheer amount of moisture on her could easily supply a few barrels worth of water, and she hated it.  

 

The first five minutes on the path gave her no trouble, the small drops of rain steadily growing larger as well as more frequent. Her home slowly faded into the distance, the lights still on as she turned the bend of the road, Johanna most likely preparing her leave for her father’s house in the town. Only as she entered the woods trail did the real storm show its dark nature. Brisk breezes filtered through her soaked garments and slowed Elsa’s journey to the trolls to that of a turtle’s movements.

 

She was freezing, she was soaked, she was ill-prepared, and only as she came into the woods did Elsa realize she had absolutely no idea where she was going or how far away the trolls were.

 

“Lost.” She deadpanned, drawing her arms into her chest in anger and defeat. “I’m lost.” The mechanic snorted in disgust at her idiotic choice.

 

In her darker moments she would’ve hidden; shrunk. Walked three steps forward before curling up somewhere and hoping that she’d somehow figure a way back to safety before Fenrir could sense her fear and end it before she even got the chance to see her reflection in its eyes. Had she been younger, a teenager even, she’d have called for someone to help her until either someone did or she lost her voice, her throat very nearly bleeding. But she was neither young or depressed, nor was she naive. She was a woman; and women, contrary to all the stories she’d read, didn’t simply curl up on the ground and await for a savior to appear out of nowhere but their minds. Only the weak gave up. Elsa knew she’d find a way, even if it was dark, rainy, and she felt like she was going to topple over and into the mud. Mud was already splattered in the last few feet of her dress and cloak anyway. She doubted the rain would let her get dirty before soaking her clean.

 

Yup. This was a good day indeed.            

 

Her mind drifted with her steps in the muddy ground, the sudden increase of trees allowing Elsa to focus on what she could’ve been doing instead of letting herself get tied into a knot over something so… pointless. All this hike was proving was just how insensitive she was being to her girlfriend. After all, Johanna had hoped they could spend some quality time together. She worked constantly. What did that say about their relationship? Was she really that determined she was willing to risk her most treasured friend and only lover?

 

With that question in mind, Elsa pressed her palms against her damp face and stopped, letting herself consider just what she would say to apologize. She was supposed to be the levelheaded one. The logical one. She was the older sister. Anna was lucky she didn’t grow up with someone who was such a terrible role model.

 

Trudging forward, her left foot suddenly hit a pocket in the ground, the sudden lack of stability under her feet sending the young woman careening forward and into the mud. In a matter of moments, her hands sank beneath the clay ground, stinging on contact with the sharp roots of some kind of plant. But over the rain, there was the click of some kind of machinery, and the whizzing of a string. Elsa froze.

 

A crossbow bolt embedded itself in the tree directly behind her, the sharp end burying itself in the thick trunk so that there was only an inch or so sticking out from the splintered shavings of bark. A curse came from her right, the accent akin to the people from a place her parents often went to on exhibitions. The name came back to her in a flash as the man continued mumbling about something, the accent fueling her fires.

 

“Weselton.” She growled as her eyes focused on the injured tree.

 

The braying of a horse got her attention as footfalls approached at a normal pace. Elsa quickly stood up to the approaching figure and his stallion. As he came nearer, the young woman was beginning to question which was which. But on closer inspection, she corrected herself. Bird was definitely a title more fitting of this terrible shot. A glowing oil lantern was clutched in his free hand.

 

“I’m terribly sorry about tha-” His words dissolved into a womanly yelp. “Monster!” He raised his crossbow, suddenly backing away from where Elsa stood. She groaned.

 

“If there were a monster in these woods I can assure you that mating call of yours will only draw it closer.” The mechanic glared at the frightened old man, who slowly lowered the crossbow before clearing his throat, the light of his lantern casting a bright shadow on the bedraggled young adult.

 

“Terribly sorry. My vision is not what it used to be.” He corrected himself, pushing up the pair of wire framed looking glasses that were balanced on his… beak? Elsa wasn’t really sure whether it was that or a nose.

 

“Vision problems aside the last thing I want is a crossbow injury. I hope you understand why I seem a little dirty.” She indicated her soiled dress and cloak to the elder, who frowned at her messy state. Elsa knew she’d most definitely looked worse in front of people. Like the time she’d fallen asleep and knocked the inkwell at her desk over, leaving her left cheek a shade of violet until Gerda had advised her to look in the mirror, only then for Elsa to realize she’d been all around town with yet another rumor more than likely having already started about her strange purple face. Tavern patrons still joked about it when in her presence, bringing up the incident if only to earn the guests satisfaction.

 

With a click of his tongue the Weselton man took another step forward, his fudge brown friesian following his lead. Elsa, slightly unnerved by the action, took a step back.

 

“I can hardly leave a lady stranded in these woods. Come with me to my estate and make yourself presentable. Afterwards I’d be more than happy to take you home Elsa.”

 

“My reputation precedes me.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “What kind of trick is this?” She found herself asking. The man only laughed.

 

“I am a gentleman my dear. If you wish to remain lost then by all means do so.” With that, he began to mount his friesian, hooking his lamp to a clip on the leather reins. The mechanic’s eyes opened wide and she suddenly lurched herself forward.

 

“No, please! I’m sorry, It’s just…” She walked up to the horse. “Usually the men aren’t serious.” The young woman deadpanned.

  
The elderly man laughed again. “Well then my dear, allow me to be the first.” He hopped down from the stirrup and bowed. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Duke of Weselton.”


	6. Chapter 6

A secret is curious thing. It is something kept only to oneself, and it was something almost anyone could relish in the simple fact that they knew about something nobody would likely ever know about. There was a joy in knowing that couldn’t be replaced, especially when that secret was being kept from twelve adept older brothers. Hans was sure they had secrets themselves, but at the moment they seemed like, (and most likely were) absolutely nothing compared to becoming human in- well, Hans didn’t really know. Kristoff hadn’t really given him a time frame for the effects of the goldenrod serum that would undoubtedly change the merman's life; if only for seven days.

 

In a way it was like an exchange trip. He got sent to a new place for a week before going back to the sea and hopefully getting his crush free from his mind. After all, he was obligated to marry Anna. She was nice, kind, feisty; there were good qualities to her. Kristoff was considerate, helpful, diligent. The merman stopped from where he was swimming and took a right down the second hall that led to the vanity hall.

 

***

 

“Hans! Open up!” Harris pressed a hand against the rocky wall of the alcove that was the only bathroom in the vanity. “You’ve been in there all morning.”

 

The irritated warnings of one of his older brothers did little to arouse the prince, his very presence emanating a joyful radiance that was about as noticed as he normally was. With a deep sigh, he did a graceful twirl with his tale, admiring the shining blue scales that would be replaced by two legs soon enough.

 

“Come on Hans. Get out of there!” Harris finally tore open the seaweed barrier in anger despite the risks that came with such an act.

 

Thankfully, there was nothing to see accept a giddy merprince humming a tune and gracefully allowing his tailfins to remain a full foot above the floor, constantly in motion. Hans, completely unphased by having his privacy abashed, continued to hum his little tune, all the while Harris groaned and pulled the green curtain shut.

 

“Alright. What is his problem?” He smacked the wall with his palm, the echo drawing the attention of a few of his brothers.

 

“Problems… Hans… where should I begin?” Hector mused with sarcasm dripping off his tongue.

 

“Come on, are you that daft?” Harris narrowed his gaze at his brother, the third eldest merman not even turning to face him from his own vanity where nearly all his other siblings sat.

 

“He’s not problematic? And here I thought you knew.” He shot back. Half of the other mermen nodded in agreement, leaving Harris to cross his arms in a stern manner.

 

“His usual issues aside, have any of you seen him lately?” He exclaimed with a small chuckle.

 

“Funny. I wasn’t aware we were babysitting him.” Herman scowled and turned to face Harris.

 

“Maybe it’s that rash again?” Harper couldn’t hold back a laugh.

 

“What about that scar on his tail?” Hale swam up towards the seaweed, taking a tentative peek into the bathroom where his youngest brother was still humming and dancing around the seaglass-tiled room.

 

“Scar?” Harris, Hector and Hadrian suddenly perked up, the latter two quickly swimming over for a view of the large three inch scar that now graced the young merprinces fins.

 

“Should we ask him about it?” Hadrian couldn’t help but feel some concern.

 

“Do you really think he’d tell you? You’re the one who pretended he was invisible for two years.” Hector arched an auburn eyebrow.

 

“Like you should talk.” Hale said with attitude, swimming up to the crowded archway, the seaweed still parted and the merprince still twirling his fins around the room. “And what is that he’s humming about?” He turned his gaze to Harris.

 

“Don’t look at me. I’ve never heard it before.”            

 

“It sounds decent. Henson, come over here!”

 

Henson was the most musically gifted of all of them, his talents in Baltica’s official palace orchestra earning him enough respect from family and friends alike to last him many lifetimes. With his name called, the ninth merprince swam over to the alcove, cocking his head to the side in interest. In a matter of seconds the archway was filled with all twelve of Hans’ brothers, each one of them watching in confusion and fascination as he continued on repeating the same chorus tune for another few minutes. Harris finally broke the silence that was being collectively held between the twelve older siblings.

 

“Hans?” He asked quietly. The merman suddenly turned around and opened his eyes, the sea green color glossy and amused.

 

“What are you all doing?” Hans chuckled at his siblings.

 

This unnerved nearly every one of them into swimming a pace back. On any regular day the thirteenth prince was hardly chatty and more often than not would deliver a failed attempt at a comeback whenever his older brothers made fun of him as he always had done before. To witness him being completely docile and practically pleasant towards the mermen that had supposedly convinced Hans that water was somehow thicker than blood was downright disturbing. All of them remained silent for a long time until Hans’ smile grew wider and he just closed his eyes, as if going back into a fantastical dream. His singing became slightly more vocal, little tidbits of vocabulary echoing in the cavernous halls. Without an explanation, the merprince plopped down onto one of the vanity mirrors, humming all the while as he turned his jaw in different directions; as if her were trying to spot blemishes. With a content sigh he breezed past his crowd of older brothers to a full length mirror, his siblings following him, entranced by his behavior.

 

With another chuckle Hans did a slow turn, his reasons a complete mystery to everyone but himself. His eyes continued to glance subconsciously at the fins of his tail, his goofy smile growing wider each time he looked down until finally he sighed again, releasing a collective amount of tension between the thirteen mermen.

 

“Good morning my princes,” The sea queen called a greeting from the other end of the hall.

 

Everyone accept Hans managed a greeting, a few finally having gotten over this new change and choosing to go back to their respective vanities all the while grumbling about something in the water. Still; Harris, Hale, and Hadrian remained captivated until the youngest merman did a final swim around the room, snatching up a starburst golden coral flower and enjoying its fragrance.

 

“Hans,” The queen said with a smile tugging at her features, a sense of approval practically radiating from the small, supposedly knowing grin. “I see you’re in high spirits today. Wedding excitement?” She joked.

 

The room remained mostly silent aside from the distant idle whistling and snickers of the twelve elder merprinces. Hans had stopped his little tune and opened his eyes in confusion, the flower suddenly falling limp with his arm.

 

“What was that mother?”

 

“Excited about the wedding?” His mother repeated, hands on her hips. The prince paused for a moment before understanding dawned on his freckled face as it once again bloomed into a beaming smile.  

 

“Of course,” He mused with a longing sigh, swimming up to his mother as his humming resumed. With all the precision of a master archer, he planted the golden flower in the side of her toasted auburn hair, parting the even bangs like a curtain. The queen paused in surprise and before she could react to Hans’ gesture the merprince was already swimming away in blissful corkscrew motions. The look on her face elicited a roaring laughter from the remainder of her children.

 

“I suppose you’re going to explain this to me?” She couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as she hesitantly removed the sunburst coral flower from where the thirteenth prince had tucked it.

 

“That look you had there was apparently contagious.” Hector said into his mirror, a devious smirk taking hold.

 

“In what way?” She countered, her eyes refusing to part from the gesture.

 

“You’re telling us you haven’t noticed how Hans has been acting lately?” Harris questioned with an incredulous tone. The queen shook her head.

 

“And just how has he been acting, Harris?” She cocked an eyebrow as she was expecting some sort of insulting name or phrase to tumble from her sons mouth. Instead, he seemed to grimace at his next words.

 

“In love.” He almost grumbled, as if not wanting to admit it.

 

“So that’s all then? What’s so peculiar about your brother being in love?” The queen swam over to the vanity and sat down, her mind jaded for the moment.

 

“It doesn’t seem to be with Anna, Mother.”

 

The smile suddenly faded to be replaced with a look of complete confusion and concern. “What makes you say so?” Her voice was slightly less confident, but nowhere near as grave as she expected it to sound.

 

“Well look at the evidence.” Harris stated bluntly and plopped himself in the stool beside the sea queen. “He’s certainly never been one for singing, humming; as it were.”

 

“He’s twirling around, acting all giddy.” Hale commented, swimming to the open part of the room and mimicking his younger brothers movements.

 

“He’s constantly been off and about, swimming off to who knows where.” Henson piped up from where he sat, seaweed parchment piled high on his own vanity.

 

“But boys, that hardly means-”

 

“He postponed his own wedding for another week!” Hector interjected. “And let’s all face it, I’ve never seen him act this way over Anna; or any girl for that matter.”

 

Something about the way he’d said it brought the words to her attention, and the queen blinked for a moment before swimming up to the center of the vanity room, the flower held tightly in her hand and slowly getting crushed with a sort of distant fear the young monarch didn’t even realize was there until she heard the delicate splitting of the goldenrod blossoms veins. With a distant stare across the room at where her youngest had made his leave, she felt her hand crippling, the fingers arching weakly around the slightly damaged token like a dead spider.

 

“You’re implying something,” She said despite knowing it was obvious. “And I do not wish to hear of such things in this palace. Hector, go to your room.” She ordered, her tone losing its once powerful regality as it quickly weakened, leaving only sickness and disappointment in its wake.

 

“What? But I-”

 

“ _Now._ ” She cut him off before closing her sea green eyes and taking a deep breath as the merprince swam out of the vanity, leaving the remainder of the royal merteens in stunned silence. With only that silence lingering, she cupped the injured blossom in her hand, and swam out of the vanity.

 

***                     

                                                               

Hans only managed to swim out to his lush garden before someone else called out his name, the words sounding somewhat muffled and distant with his own mind completely distracted. Paying the voice no mind, he continued to swim along the corridor until the person yelled his name again, and the merman broke free from his stupor for the moment, turning to face the source. His grandmother watched him with a content and knowing smile, her tresses of wavy ash brown hair falling to her upper back, streaks of gray and white becoming more evident within the past few decades. A burgundy tail swished at a slower pace than that of her grandsons, but was still going at a decent speed for someone her age. After all, she had recently reached well into her mid to late 200’s.

 

“So the rumors are true.” Her grin remained steady as the merman floated where he was, unable to move. Whenever his grandmother guessed something, it was more often than not right.

 

“What rumors…?” Hans asked with a nervous twinge reaching his lower back.

 

“The rumors of your love, but of course.”

 

The young merprince remained still, his face flushing a pale white even though she had yet to say anything more on the subject. His grandmother noticed this and swam over to the row of healthy green seaweed that was beginning to change its color to a faded; nearly limp yellow. Her wrinkles finger brushed over the soft plants tendrils, skimming the veins and blades as delicately as she did with everything. Hans had, much to his embarrassment, been neglecting his garden, only the first few signs of weakness beginning to show in the fragile ecosystem he’d nurtured since his father had designated the thirteen decent sized plots of land for the prince’s own uses (though he secretly wished they would become gardens). His brothers, however, only ever planted kelp and a few coral within the perfect sand and soil, quickly abandoning them to either die or go wild, the former the most likely scenario.

 

With nobody to nurture him, the thirteenth prince in line often felt that need to nurture something like any living creature would. One would say to him he’d get his chance as ruler of Baltica, and Hans would weakly accept their words knowing he’d never get anywhere near the position held by heir Haiden or even to second in line. He was the last child born. It was obvious to everyone in the sea kingdom only those of sixth or higher would ever get the chance to see the crown on their coronation whilst everyone else on the bloodline would see distant glimmers of it in the back of their minds greatest desires. Hans did admit to dreaming of being king one day; but secretly he knew he’d be a prince forever.

 

With that in mind and the fact that he was young and without companionship, Hans found no better outlet for his paternal instincts than pouring his efforts into his plot of land. There were many a happy years spent caring for the hedges of lush, green kelp and providing care for the plethora of colorful coral that happened to make a happy home in the garden. He’s lost count of the kinds he’d cultivated, their beauty practically worth a national treasure. Scores of aqua blue, scarlet red, fuchsia and violet were dotted in stems and blossoms between the elegantly carved cobblestone pathways that were there simply because Hans found it troublesome having no clear paths to swim through and it was somewhat nerve wracking to worry about moving his tailfins in the wrong direction and risk breaking the delicate lifeforms.

 

The were very delicate lifeforms. They were alive, depending on him. It pained Hans to realize he’d been so blinded by the events in those past few days that he’d come to forget about the one thing that had always depended on him and he’d never failed to nurture.

 

“You can’t deny you don’t see the effects.” The merman’s grandmother sighed as her smile began to reverse into a saddened frown. Hans couldn’t help but feel guilty.

 

“Come, swim with me.” She beckoned and began a slow fluttering of her burgundy tail, turning down one of the hedge rows that Hans knew by heart. The merprince cast a reluctant look at his dying hedgerows and reminded himself he could fix it.

 

Conversation found the family members as the former queen extended her arm as if she needed assistance to continue swimming when it was clear she didn’t. Hans took the arm anyhow and held it limply with jaded eyes.

 

“So,” She began with an amused and knowing grin. “Who is the lucky merman?”

 

Hans fought the urge to stop dead in his currents. His face went red as a lump rose in the back of his throat. “Excuse me?” He said hotly. With that his grandmother cackled softly.

 

“Dear, trust me. I know love when I see it.”

 

The merprince gulped, his gaze falling to the sludge covered cobblestones, small buds and clusters of seaweed forming between the cracks. “What makes you so sure it’s a merman?” He attempted to ask in a way that wouldn’t incriminate him. It failed.

 

“When you’ve been around as long as I have, Hans, there are things you can see that younger merfolk let slip away.” She kept smiling.

 

“And you’re… alright with that?” The prince felt an itching sheepish grin.

 

“Of course. Back in my day it was never a big deal. If I were still on that throne things would be a lot different around here.” She smiled as her eyes seemed to wander into blissful dreams, her grandson only able to make guesses as to what exactly they were.

 

“Really,” He found himself intrigued as the hard lump slowly dissipated. “What would you change?”

 

“Well, for one you wouldn’t need to worry about this relationship of yours.” The elder paused, her brow twisted in concentration. “Also, I’d ban those idiotic walker's your mother says I need at my age.”

 

Silence passed as the two crossed a bend in the path, entering a row of navy blue coral, the spines seeming to bloom in their presence. Soft pink buds opened as the pair swam past.

 

“So, who is this new merman?” The former queen playfully jabbed his bicep with a knobby elbow. The merprince laughed uneasily, bringing his free hand to the back of his head as that lump in his throat returned. His grandmother didn’t seem to notice this, but cleared her throat after a moment of silence.

 

Hans took a few breaths of precious water, his throat suddenly becoming dry. “Kristoffer.” He hesitated as a feeling of lightheadedness crashed into him, the merman somewhat struggling to keep his balance.

 

“Well, it seems to me you need to see him soon.” His grandmother released her arm from his and attempted to steady her relative.

 

“I’m sure I will.” Hans felt his breathing picking up its pace, as if his lungs couldn’t take in enough water. Why would they be doing that unless-

 

He yanked himself free from the elderly mermaid and began to swim out of the garden, stopping only when he was sure she could no longer see him. Hans continued to push with all his strength, hopelessly attempting to get to the surface as realization hit him along with the amazing amount of pressure on his ribs and stomach. It was irritating at first, quickly becoming a crushing pain as thousands of pounds of water began to crush his brittle bones and organs. His body was changing, and at the absolute worst possible time. Why hadn’t he just stayed near the surface and just waited?!

 

With a final breath of water his mouth sputtered at the overwhelming taste of salt, the sheer amount making him gag until he tasted the acid and bile assaulting his gag reflex. More confusion and pain streamed past him as Hans squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to dull just the taste as he continued to flip his tail.

 

One thought made him hold his breath as his tailfins began to burn from overuse. Humans didn’t breathe water. He was becoming human. Hans was suddenly grateful that salty taste was the least of his problems as he struggled to keep his pace, the palace quickly beginning to fade in the distance. The merman struggled to hold his breath as his lungs held one last breath of separated oxygen, the soft tissue beginning to burn from the used up oxygen. The prince held it until he felt his lungs and esophagus rejecting the stale air, forcing him to take a gulp despite the fact that he was still quite far away from the surface and now completely liable to drown.

 

His life began to flash past him as he struggled to keep swimming, his body beginning to grow still from the lack of air. He only just managed give one last flutter of his tail before a splitting pain erupted from his tailfins. Looking down, Hans gasped, sputtering on the massive intake of saltwater.

 

A goldenrod color had overtaken his scarred aquamarine fins, the tail jerking and flopping around as the merman struggled to grapple the searing waves of pain as he could only scream, more water pouring into his lungs. It felt like his tail was being slowly ripped in two, the bones separating in an unfamiliar manner as another pulse of light blinded the weakened royal. The last thing he saw was three shapes in his vision as the cerulean blue waters faded to blackness. Two of them were legs, the forms barely recognizable in his haze.

 

And the second one was a mermaid swimming towards his limp form, her arms outstretched for him.

 

***

 

Anna’s first reaction when she saw Hans was to continue swimming in the direction she was going. After all, he’d probably had things on his mind. What had tipped her off that something wrong were numerous things she noticed after a second glance. First was the chaotic movements his tail was making, the appendage moving in spasmodic directions like a worm on a hook. Second, the massive amount of air bubbles streaming from the mermans mouth, as if he were suffering a heart attack. Lastly, and most telling: the pulses of bright golden light erupting from his lower half in short, chaotic bursts that were definitely affecting her fiance. And when two legs appeared and Hans went limp, Anna pushed away her confusion and desperation to know what was going on and swam up to him.

 

With some effort initially, she hooked both of her arms around his bare chest to keep him from sinking, switching to her left arm which remained looped around the prince's bicep. Then, with the weight of another merperson’s life in jeopardy, she swam up as fast as her fins would allow her to. She then realized just how heavy her lover was, stopping for only a split second before forcing herself to start again, grunting in effort as she pulled Hans further up and further away from the briny deep of Baltica.

 

It occurred to her in the first few minutes of swimming to the enth degree just how ironic this whole incident was. She had toiled over human objects and culture for nearly her entire life, braved every shipwreck, every shark and jellyfish bloom that happened to cross her path, only to wind up dragging her guppy-fiance up to the surface because he happened to turn human? How was that fair? He hadn’t even cared until a week earlier. What kind of phase was this anyhow?

 

“Hans, you owe me _big_ for this.” She grunted as the first rays of light came into view where they penetrated the ocean blue.

 

Pulling herself above to the surface of lapping waves, Hans’ head lifted slightly as his head left the water, only to go limp as she continued to swim for the shore which was somehow miraculously close. The first rays of sunlight were peeking over the horizon, the rosy pink shade slowly changing to a forget-me-not blue as the young mermaid was beginning to struggle with Hans in shallow water, the increase of surf making Anna finally let go of Hans when there was only a few feet of water remaining to wash ashore. Knowing Hans was likely still alive, she refused to leave him, only swimming to a deeper alcove of the water where a length of grey stone hills separated the sea from the land in the least even way possible. In the moments that passed the mermaid waited on a small stone, her arms crossed with impatience as her fiance slowly regained consciousness. His sea green eyes opened wide as he sputtered, small amounts of saltwater spilling onto his bare chest with ragged coughs. He sat up in the water, propping his back against the rock wall and taking deep breaths of composure.

 

In that moment, his gaze drifted to the two knees he now possessed, the tops remaining dry whilst the rest remained beneath the water. The whites in his eyes grew wide with trepidation and joy, biting his lip as he tentatively lifted one leg out of the water, marveling at it with all the childlike giddiness he’d been showcasing that week.

 

He was a bit confused by what he saw. Was this what a leg really looked like? Didn’t human feet curve up at the ends? Like waves? Hans thought with curiosity as he viewed the strange shape of his new... what were they called again?

 

“Feet,” He breathed as the word returned to his vocabulary. Anna had always wanted a pair.

 

There was a remarkable feeling of freshness the former merman had not thought it was possible to feel. The cold air stung at his skin, a brisk breeze reminding him that he couldn’t just disappear back beneath the water’s warm embrace. On the other hand though, there was a certain tingling that ran up his skin, little bumps raising up as he shivered. Instinctively, the royal recoiled into the water by a few inches, quickly realizing he couldn’t go down any further and sighed in wonder at his knees, which still remained above the sea like two mountains. The prince took another deep breath and embraced the cold air, quickly adjusting to the temperature difference between the world of water and the world of land.

 

His hand absentmindedly brushed against his right cheek, his thumb prying lightly at the lines where his gills once were, still not used to the feeling of breathing through only his mouth and nose. The salty taste was in everything. In the air, in his mouth, in his nose. While it was almost vile, it still held a sense of comfort to the young human. There was a hideous tang of bile on his tongue and he spit into the sea, knowing better than to drink saltwater. His gaze drifted around him, and back down to his legs, realizing that despite the distortion of the water, there was definitely something different hanging between his legs; and it was huge. Hans realized with blood rushing to his face that he was completely naked, sitting in the ocean, exposed in every way possible. The only thing that made it slightly bearable was the fact he was alone.

 

But that was quickly changed when he saw the familiar shock of strawberry blonde hair that shined in the light of the rising sun.

 

“Anna;” He paused, his voice cracking.

 

The mermaid swam up until she reached the sandbar, leaving only a few feet of distance between Hans and his very confused looking fiance. But her eyes darkened slightly upon closer inspection, the azure blue was glistening with uncertain anger behind the dampness of tears.

 

“I consider myself a reasonable mermaid,” She paused, unable to look at Hans or his new legs. “But after what I just pulled off for you, I think you’d better start talking. Because you have got a lot of explaining to do, guppy!” The young girl practically spat, her rage quickly making its dramatic entrance for the former merprince.

 

“But Anna, I-”

 

That was the wrong thing to say. “Don’t you dare ‘but Anna’ me! I am not taking excuses, Hans. I’m taking answers, so spill’em, because you’re not going anywhere.” She fumed, her arms crossed tight as she took a gulp of water so she could continue to speak.

 

“Anna, please, let me-”

 

“Explain? Alright, where should you begin,” She paused and tapped a finger to her chin, putting on a great show of faux consideration for her own words. “How about why I saved you from drowning when you have been giving me nothing but cold fins?” Aqua tears dropped into the shallow embrace of the water, the sparkling blue gems glinting like stars in the night’s sky.

 

“Well that’s kind of a long story,” Hans responded, guilt collecting in nearly every part of the former merman. He found no joy in his new legs knowing Anna was so distraught.

 

Over the next few hours, as the sun climbed higher into the sky and the tide slowly rose, Hans began telling the long story of how he’d been in shallow water when a fisherman had caught him, (this caused him to gesture to his legs, which seemed to bother Anna less than they had initially) and how he had been interested in repaying the human for not eating him and suturing up his massive injury. He detailed about having lured the fish into the bay and how he ended up falling for the human; which although Anna didn’t directly protest, Hans could still see her hands squeezed into tight little fists around the rocks as if she yearned to break them with all the earthly strength she possessed. She finally let go of her anger as the former merman told her about the fisherman and the mechanic and how they wanted his help to find a girl who had been lost at sea. This led to him wanting to become human to help them because his gills stopped him from speaking and therefore, left him mute. A sweet smile grew on her young face.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just figured I shouldn’t to spare your feelings.” He explained, tucking his head onto his knees. Anna’s smile disappeared.

 

“Spare my feelings?” She almost laughed. “If you wanted to spare my feelings you should’ve told me instead of leading me on to think everything was fine.” But Anna had known everything was not fine. There had been problems recently, but she’d never for a minute assumed there’d be someone else that caught her mermans attention; especially another man.

 

“I know. It was stupid of me. Please, don’t-” He paused. “Don’t be upset.”

 

“Well it’s a little too late for that, Westergaard. But I forgive you. You got a little lovesick, It happens to all of us at one point or another.” She seemed jaded, as if she didn’t believe her own words.

 

“So you understand?” Hans tested his luck, a smile tugging it the corners of his mouth.

 

“Of course.” Anna nodded, releasing the tension that had built between them like a broken dam. “But I think that it would be for the best if we-” She was cut off by Hans kissing her, and it felt real for a moment. But only a moment.

 

“I’m sorry. When this spell is up,” Hans leaned forward and took her hand in his, delicately stroking the golden ring he’d cherished to give to whomsoever he married. “We’ll-”

 

The look on Anna’s face made Hans stop in his tracks. It was a gaze of angst and trepidation that was surfacing in her ocean blue eyes. Slowly, she eased her hand out of his, eyeing the ring is it sparkled in the sunlight. With no words, Hans nodded in understanding as she slid the ring off of her finger, and presented it back to him, laying it in his hand, and closing his fingers around the band. Hans shook it slightly as Anna drew her arm back into the water.

 

“I’m sorry.” She said softly.

 

As much as she did care for Hans, there was really no coming back after admitting you were attracted to a person that was more or less the complete opposite of you. The way Hans was describing Kristoff made him seem as though he was without fault. He was blonde, he was muscular, he was sensible. He was human. Anna knew that she was none of those things. She couldn’t compare. Even after Hans had voiced his initial plans; after what he had brought into the light, after the way he described this fisherman, Anna knew there was a serious chance that when the serum did wear off, he’d just be unfufilled. With that in mind…

 

“When your parents find out about this,” Anna’s gaze turned back to the ocean as Hans’ face flushed in terror. He frantically shook his head, the auburn tresses beginning to shake as they dried.

 

“But Hans, when this spell wears off what do you have to gain? You’ll only be, well,” She bit her lip. “Empty.” She almost whispered.

 

Hans frowned, as if he wanted to protest the matter, but remained silent until the last of the sad realization faded from his eyes. “But what will telling my parents do? You know they’ll skin me alive.”

 

“They won’t.” Anna tried to laugh off the notion not knowing if there was really any validity to her words of comfort or not. “But if I- no, we find a way to get you back your fins, convince your parents to help; you’ll just be,” The mermaid paused as she attempted to explain.

 

“Just be,” She tried again, the sadness in the princes eyes painful to stomach.

 

Anna gave in, not seeing any point in disagreeing. “Just be miserable for the rest of your life.” She frowned, trailing lines in the water before looking up to Hans, a moment of silence having passed between the two creatures.

 

“We need to do research on this. I’ll go into that section,” She paused, her brows lifting as if she were remembering something. “That section in the library…”

 

“The section mother always warns everyone to stay out of?” Hans guessed, his tone jaded, as _if_ he’d expected Anna to try something safe.

 

“That’s the one.” The mermaid nodded.

 

“Anna, I-” Hans stopped himself. “You know what? Go ahead. If you find something I’ll be around.” He tried to finish with a smile.

 

“See? Not such a guppy after all.” With that, Anna pushed herself off of the sandbar and flipped her glass green tail fins into the water before disappearing, the only remnants of her visit the wedding ring that Hans realized he was still holding. At her remark he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. This was going to be an interesting day.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez, I haven't updated in forever. Finals are killing me right now.

Hans awoke to the scent of rotting fish, and a wet feeling on his face as he instantly squeezed his green eyes shut and brought a hand towards that annoyance that had pulled him from his sleep. He’d spent nearly half the day trying to put his new legs to use, slowly pulling himself from the water like a baby from its mother's nurturing arms. It was a jarring experience.

 

First there was the extreme difference in temperature. It was a climate worthy of the Arctic circle above the land he once called home. There were current like winds that pushed his fragile and delicate body about like a shell in high tide, causing him to sometimes stumble and a few times sent him crashing back into the shallow sea’s embrace. Hans initially wanted to quit, but he knew humans had to have used these legs for walking constantly. He may have just gotten them but learning to walk would be essential should he ever have the need to go anywhere, which he at the moment did.

 

It was extremely hard to stomach the sheer amount of weight he was putting on his two new appendages, and at first it left the merprince struggling to even stand, let alone walk or run. But as the sun continued to climb down from its noon ascent the human was slowly beginning to take his first, tentative, small steps. His feet hurt with an agonizing stabbing that was equivalent to pressing against the spines of fire coral, the initial contact with the sandy bottom only intensifying and screaming at the former merman to end the pain; no matter how brief his feet touched the ground.

 

The sun was at midafternoon before Hans attempted to not only leave the water, but leave at a full tilt sprint. He’d geared up his courage, trying his very best to ignore the pain that was cutting at his feet like the rusty blade of a dagger. He’d taken deep breaths, gulping in the salty sea air. He focused on his target: the shoreline less than a stone's throw from where the prince stood, the golden sand seeming to beckon him as if so often had (albeit forcefully).

 

Hans had taken a whole three and a half steps ahead, the resistance of the water slowing him significantly before he felt himself tripping over his two left feet once again. The former merman waved his arms like a dying seagull in a successful attempt to balance himself before attempting to run once more.

 

His second attempt was handsomely rewarded. He felt the last drops of saltwater cascading from his feet as the brine and foam dissolved from his lower legs. There were goosebumps. There was a freezing cold feeling. But above all there was triumph.

 

Hans only lasted four seconds before collapsing, his own knees buckling under the sudden lack of water.

 

He’d struggled to move himself from the warm sand, the golden grains proving to be quite annoying on his bare and already blistered skin, the sun having fried the exposed human to a shade of pink that Hans quickly realized he hated. He wanted to make the pain stop as he laid there, exhausted from his efforts to move out of the ocean. If this was day one, how terrible would the rest of them be?

 

With no other option, he closed his eyes and drifted off, hopeful that the next day would be somewhat better than the first. And now here he was, woken up by this new and already irritating source that had an atrocious odor to it’s breath. Hans opened his eyes to an orange sky, the blazing colors surrounding the slowly setting sun. The other thing that blocked his vision was something white, hairy, and slimy. It’s soft pink appendage touched him over and over and over as he reached a hand up to push the offensive creature away. For all Hans knew it was tasting him. The creature seemed to whine upon contact with the merprinces hand and moved away by a few feet, allowing Hans to scoot further away for the moment and observe the alien in full view.

 

It was hunch shaped, four odd leg-like things supporting it as it’s head listed to the right, confusion in its black pupils. It was covered in hair; so much so that it was nearly shaggy, white locks of curly hair giving it a soft appearance. At least, it would have had it not been drenched. It’s tail wagged quickly in a near mesmerizing pace as it seemed to observe the human anxious anticipation, as if it almost recognized him for some strange reason. Hans felt his toes digging into the sand as he pushed himself away, his burned and bare skin reminding him he couldn’t move much should the monster choose to hurt him. But it didn’t. Instead it did something that made the prince jump.

 

It started making a loud, snappish sound. It was barking. It was alerting something or someone that he was there, completely helpless, and completely exhausted. A human voice followed it, shouting a name. The creature immediately turned its head towards the voice and continued barking, now beginning a little dance in where he bounded in circles around the owner of the voice as she came into view.

 

“Olaf, what on earth has gotten into you?” The young woman frowned at the little white monster, her brown hair tucked in a small ponytail as her eyes drifted up to where this Olaf was running.

 

“Oh.” She looked at Hans as he struggled to move further away from the woman. “I see.” She continued breathlessly, her face seeming to drain at the realization that he was naked. The merprince felt a surge of energy push through him as he flung himself off the ground like a beached fish, and scrambled behind a decent sized rock.

 

The young lady took a step closer, Olaf seeming to warm right up to Hans as if he were a longtime friend. It was evident as the little furry beast continued to sniff and nuzzle as his lower half, forcing Hans to join his little dance around the rock as the vulnerable human continued to try and avoid him. This whole act seemed to elicit a good amount of laughter from the young woman, who covered her mouth with a spread hand before the annoyed and terrified human managed to hop on top of the rock and end the game short, Olaf still attempting to play.    

 

“I’m sorry about that, sir.” She said between bursts of chuckling and Hans hardly found appropriate. “This little guy needed his walk and I guess I should’ve brought his leash.” She admitted, her green eyes shining as they fell to the sand again. Hans felt himself scowling at her and the laughter faded.

 

“He’s harmless though. Really.” She reached down and picked up Olaf, who immediately seemed to calm down once in her arms. Hans shifted on the rock, still apprehensive as silence continued to pass between them.

 

Finally, after a moment, the young woman looked up. “I’m Johanna.” She introduced herself. When Hans didn’t say something back immediately, she released a breath and looked back up at him with a shyness in her eyes. “You don’t say much, do you?”

 

Hans opened his mouth. “I do, actually. I’ve just been though a lot.” Johanna seemed confused, and Hans repeated himself. This only elicited a raised eyebrow.

 

“Is that English?” She asked quizzically.

 

Hans felt the his face flush white as seafoam, his jaw instantly going slack. Was he really that stupid to assume humans spoke his language? It only seemed that way because merpeople could understand the language of humans. They just couldn’t speak it. Gills prevented them from making the same vocal sounds, the same pronunciations. Whatever the reason, Hans had a voice. He just wouldn’t get anywhere from using it. He suddenly felt the urge to run away from this stranger and her pet. Back to Baltica. But the feeling passed quickly. He had a mission to complete.

 

With a frown, he shook his head to the young lady’s question.

 

“Oh.” She deadpanned before realization seemed to dawn on her face. “You’re that merman Elsa was talking about.” She ventured. Hans smiled, and nodded.  

 

“Okay.” Johanna paused, her tone slightly anxious. “First things first. You can’t go on walking around here without anything on.” Hans felt himself blushing at the statement despite the fact that he knew he was without cover and had the burns to prove it. The prince then nodded, running one hand through his salty auburn hair while shifting the other arm to balance himself.

 

With his response, Johanna shed her indigo cloak and handed it to the naked man as he snatched it, wrapping himself up in the strange fabric and began to run his fingers over it with fascination. It was so soft.

 

“Remind me to burn that later.” The woman grumbled as Hans began to pose in it, ignoring how ridiculous he looked in it. Hans paid no attention to the girls remarks and marveled at how nice it felt to be shaded from the sun, all the while feeling as stylish as he dared to admit. His skin stung slightly from the blisters and burns, but Hans bit back the irritation quickly and slid off the rock, planting his feet on the sand.

 

He quickly fell forward, and Johanna caught him, taking the opportunity to tighten the cloak around his shoulders so that a swift breeze wouldn’t relieve him of it.

 

“Come on.” She looked towards the way she had come. “Let’s get you to the Inn. I’m sure that Kai and Gerda will fix you up.”

 

Hans gave her a questioning look. “Um,” She paused, attempting to think of what this merman could possibly be questioning her about. There were so many things, so she figured she’d start from the beginning. “An Inn is a place where you-”

 

She cut herself off with a laugh at the stare Hans gave her, indicating he knew what an Inn was. “Right.” She nodded, feeling completely ridiculous. Hans gave the look again and Johanna frowned.

 

“You know what, merman? I’m not going to bother with this game. You’ll get answers soon enough.” And with that, she whistled for Olaf to follow them as she hooked her arm around the former merman’s shoulder, guiding him along the beach towards the town of Havverden and hopefully, a lengthy explanation from Elsa.

 

***

 

“So,” The icewoman took a deep breath and held a hand up in the air. “You’re telling me this guy can help you find your sister?”

 

Elsa nodded, and Johanna looked incredulously at her lover’s response. “That’s rich.” She said dryly. “Since when have you put blind faith in anything?”

 

“Since it involves my sister.” She responded curtly.

 

“Elsa,” She began, her voice somewhat weak as she brushed a wave of brunette bangs from her sweating forehead. She looked at her friend with all the sense she could muster, trying to see past the icy exterior Elsa was both known and feared for. The face that always passed over her whenever she was sure of something.

 

“Elsa,” She started again. “I just think you’re making a mistake.”

 

The blonde raised an eyebrow from where they both stood in the inn’s wood paneled hallway, the shadows of light coming from the many rooms that Kai and Gerda rented out to the occasional and weary traveler.

 

“I just mean that,” She cast a glance towards the room where the former merman awaited his next move, the indigo cloak hanging deftly around his shoulders. “Merpeople aren’t exactly known for being truthful.”

 

“And you got that from what, a cocktail napkin?”

 

“You know full well who I got it from.” Johanna frowned. “What I mean is that even if this merman could say something, and that’s another road entirely; what makes you sure that he’ll tell you anything useful?”

 

“Johanna, you found him.” Elsa indicated the door down the hall that led to where the merman was. “Did he look conniving and dastardly to you?”

 

“No, but that’s not the point.” She shook her head. “The point is that you’re grasping at straws.”

 

“How so?”

 

“You’re serious? You don’t realize the ocean covers near three quarters of the globe?”

 

“Yes, I realize that, but mermaids follow water. He could be my best bet.”

 

“And what if he’s not?” Johanna snapped. “What if you just end up feeling more alone than ever after this is all over?”

 

“Look, if this fails,” Elsa felt herself stopping, only to realize she didn’t have a plan for what to do if this failed; if the merman couldn’t help. That hadn’t exactly been her prime concern, and both women knew Elsa prided herself in her foresight. “If this fails then I’ll think of something else.”

 

The icewoman looked anything but convinced. “And just what else are you planning? To drench the seas dry until you find some sort of potion that will make Anna appear out of thin air?”

 

“No! I’ll-”

 

“Elsa, please.” Johanna took a step towards her friend, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

Silence passed between the pair for a long time, and Elsa finally looked up at her longtime companion.

 

“And what do you suggest I do instead Johanna? Just let this opportunity pass me by so I can be alone again when I knew I had even a tiny chance at finding her?” This time her significant other fell silent, her gaze falling to the floor. “My father once told me,” Elsa tilted her lovers head up to face hers, as if not willing to let her feel remorse for her concern. “That you have to risk breaking a few eggs to make the perfect dish. That’s what this is. A risk that could and just might pay off if I give it my all. Somethings in this world require an effort to make happen. Miracles just happen to be one of those things. If I could get Anna back,” She trailed off as Johanna suddenly wrapped her arms around Elsa, setting her chin on her braidless shoulder.

 

“You don’t have to explain.” She said as she let go. “I get it.”

 

“So you’ll support me in this?” Elsa shrugged hopefully.

 

“I didn’t say that.” Johanna corrected her gently. “But I won’t talk you out of it.” She brushed a kiss on the deft mechanic’s button nose. The two giggled in each other's company for a moment, arms wrapped loosely around one another like they were the closest of sisters. After what seemed like an eternity, they broke their bond.

 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Johanna seemed slightly sheepish, her grin fading. Elsa raised an eyebrow. “I have a trip I need to take, with the other harvesters.”

 

“And you’ll be gone?”

 

She nodded to her girlfriend as she started to pace, as if guilty over saying so. “Two weeks.” She replied, turning around to face her companion once more.

 

“But what about him?” Elsa threw a hand to the side. “You can’t just leave me to do this on my own!”

 

“Who says you’ll be alone? You have Kai, Gerda, and Kristoff to help you.” The mechanic looked unconvinced. “And if you really need me,” She wrapped her hands comfortingly around Elsa’s shoulders. “There’s a town on route with a rookery. You wouldn’t be the first family who had to be left behind. Send a hawk with whatever trouble and I’ll be back before you can even start to worry.”

 

Elsa relaxed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Promise?”

 

“I promise.” Johanna kissed her on the forehead, parting the waves of platinum bangs.

 

***

 

The room that the former merman resided in was much like the rest of the Inn. It was nicely furnished without being overly decorated. Pale blue walls reminded him of the sky, the light cast through the chiffon curtains soft and enticing behind the glass barrier that separated the inside from the outside. White wooden floors with worn paint brushed against his bare feet as they tingled at the sensation of the strange ground beneath him. The indigo cloak was still wrapped around him, the merprince keeping himself busy looking at the strange yet all too familiar fixtures the room had to showcase. Furniture was something they had in the world of the merpeople, but without the so-called limitation of legs, things were needless to say a bit strange and confusing, but it was all the more satisfying to have an idea of what they were compared to the findings he got from Anna and her seagulls.

 

There were visions immortalized on the walls that depicted the most beautiful land spectacles much like what Anna had called a _Wraphnorf ._ The ‘Wraphnorf’ depicted a young woman with fair features gazing into the solitary glow of a candlefire, imprisoned in a golden frame. It was one of her most cherished objects in the collection, such things not lasting beneath the waters without a miracle taking place. A chair with a high back sat near the window, a small cushion of burgundy placed atop its surface for comfort. Hans wasn’t sure what he’d be using it for, but still found himself sliding onto it and enjoying the view of the room for just a moment before getting up and looking around again. The bed had a soft bedspread and pillows dyed painstakingly with unfamiliar flowers and plants the likes of which Hans had never seen or even imagined to exist beyond his view from the shore. The wooden frame, like the rest of the furniture, was worn and chipped white. A little shiny white pot sat by the bedside along with an oddly shaped contraption with drawers too small to fit anything in. Next to that sat by a large looking glass that Hans took a good moment to observe himself, his green eyes darting wildly to every part of him as he shed the cloak.

 

His skin was pink and stung as he moved it, white patches of scrapes and burns dotting the freckled flesh every few inches. Salt and sand were ingrained into every divot and crevice. Blisters were on his shoulders and back, all of them an angry shade of red with white dotting the tips. There were auburn hairs on his legs that had grown in despite not being there only an hour ago. His hair was limp and crusted like his skin, becoming thick and wiry like stalks of coral. Despite the obvious lack of physical perfection, the former merman felt proud of his body, the slim yet definite muscles still there beneath all the grime and burned skin. Feeling the indescribable urge to boost what was left of his confidence at this point, he struck a pose in the mirror, his reflection mimicking the cocky grin he displayed.

 

And of course, Kristoff chose that very moment to open the one door.

 

Both of them froze, heat gathering in the men's cheeks as the merman nabbed his cloak from the floor and wrapped it around his naked body again with a sheepish grin. Kristoff blinked at him, and looked for a moment as if he wanted to close the door and open it again. Hans lowered himself to the chair, knowing its purpose. He shrank in his seat, wanting to disappear back to the ocean as embarrassment clawed at his flipping stomach. What could make this any worse?

 

“You know it’s alright. Nobody else will be coming in anyway.”

 

Hans couldn’t help but try to laugh at the situation, the dryness in his mouth multiplying as he realized the fisherman was staring at his midsection where a patch of burned skin peeked from behind the cloak. The muscular blonde took a few steps towards him to peer at the injury. Unsure what to do, Hans tucked the cloak even tighter until he noticed the fisherman was reaching for him.

 

His calloused fingers gently peeled Elsa’s cloak from his shoulders, the angry red blisters shining upon contact with the light streaming in through the window. Kristoff looked sympathetic. “How long were you out there?” He questioned after showing a bit of grimace that made the merman feel deflated.

 

Hans understood the question, trying to think of a good answer but finding it all but impossible with the man of his dreams staring at his ugly wounds and slowly relieving him of the one thing that kept him from complete exposure. He held up a hand, raising all five fingers.

 

“Five _hours?_ ” The fisherman guessed, a hint of awed disbelief entering his tone. Hans nodded.

 

“Alright.” Kristoff looked at the blisters and burns. “Let me see.” Hans seemed hesitant at first and more than likely was, but slowly he released his hold on the indigo cloak as the fisherman slid it down his body slowly as a sea snails pace, the merprince struggling not to cringe at the burning pain as it was exposed and brushed over by even the softest material he’d ever felt. The fisherman seemed to sense his effort and stopped for a moment before realizing he was in pain. “Yeah.” He agreed. “Sunburn hurts. Don’t worry though. It’s almost off.”

 

True to his comforting words, the filleted human was free of the cloak and most of the pain in a matter of seconds. Hans loosed a treasured sigh of relief. As Kristoff looked over the blisters and burns, grunting as he observed to injuries like some kind of expert.

 

“Alright. We need to get you to a bath.” The blonde diagnosed a treatment as Hans looked confused. The iceman got up from where he was on his knees. “Don’t worry. A bath is like swimming. You’ll like it.”

 

Hans waited on the cushioned seat, keeping himself entertained by counting all the familiar things in the room. This went on for about five minutes until the fisherman came back with a giant bowl-like object in his arms. It looked similar to the barrels the merprince and his former fiance had seen stranded on the ships. He half expected it to be full, but with a grunt the fisherman lowered the object to the ground as another man came in through the open door, causing Hans to shrink in his chair again. The man was rotund, balding, and had a rather large nose to contradict his smaller brown eyes. His clothes were simple and plain, and his friendly smile surprised the exposed merman. “This is Kai, Elsa’s father and the owner of this place.” Kristoff began.

 

“This is him, Kristoff?” The owner questioned indicating the sullen and slightly less terrified merman. Kristoff confirmed it. “Well there’s no need to by shy, son. We’re all men here.”

 

“It’s okay.” The fisherman extended a hand and the prince took it as he was pulled to his feet. Still not entirely used to standing, the burned human stumbled, very nearly collapsing as the rotund man took one of his hands, helping him balance as all of them gazed at his wobbling legs. Hans shot an apologetic look at the pair of men as they helped him over to the bowl-shaped object. For a moment, Hans feared it was a cauldron of sorts, but dismissed the idea with a mental chuckle. Human’s were civilized. They didn’t commit cannibalism… right?

 

“It’s alright, lad. I used to be clumsy on my feet for a while.” Kai covered as Kristoff was about to explain.

 

His bare bottom brushed the wooden surface of the tub, and he cringed slightly. Water was slowly added as the two men doing the work made small talk over life in general. Through pretending to look at his reflection, Hans learned Elsa had a partner named Johanna, the same woman who’d found him and taken him here, that she would be going on a journey. From this came a debate about whether to keep Hans at the Inn or take him to Elsa or Kristoff’s homes. When asked his opinion, the merman only shrugged, letting the men feed him information as cool water soothed his burns and blisters. He then found out that the beast that had licked him on the beach was called a ‘dog’ and that he was actually Elsa’s, not Johanna’s. He crossed his arms at this, remembering the terror that little mongrel had given him.

 

Kai noticed his expression and laughed heartily. “I take it you aren’t a fan of him?” Hans shook his head quickly. “Don’t worry about him. He’s harmless.” Hans mumbled a curse in his tongue that went unnoticed by both of them. “No worse than Sven, I suppose.”

 

Kristoff frowned a bit before chuckling. “Sven’s smarter, I’m willing to bet.” He joked. “He’s gotten me by years. Reindeers are usually better than people anyhow.”

 

Hans looked up at the fisherman with inquisitive eyes and he answered. “Sven is a riot. I’m sure you two will get along.” Hans shook his head and Kristoff raised an eyebrow before understanding dawned on his face. “You’ve never even seen a reindeer have you?”

 

The merprince shook his head again. The blonde smiled knowingly. “You’ll like them. They can be quite the conversation list.” He joked as Kai rolled his eyes at the lonely man’s comment. The bath continued on for sometime in drull conversation until Kai asked who Hans was. The merman opened his mouth until he realized again his words would get him nowhere. Kristoff seemed slightly agitated at the question.

 

“Well, you see he was-” His brown eyes darted to a painting of a lake and an idea struck him. “In a shipwreck. Johanna found him in the wreckage and he’d been treading water for hours. He finally collapsed on the beach and well… here he is.”

 

“He,” Kai began looking down at Hans, who’d pressed a hand over his eyes as if waiting for the fisherman's lie to spin out of control. “As in you don’t even know his name?”

 

Kristoff shook his head. “And he can’t speak English?” He shook his head again, Hans mimicking the motion a bit more morosely. The thought never even occurred to him that nothing could come of him just stumbling around mutely for the next week. After all, knowing the name of your benefactor was most likely useful, especially if they wanted to help you in your task.

 

“Shipwreck.” Kai echoed with suspicion melting into sympathy. “Poor lad. We’ll get him cleaned up and tonight, he’ll be our honored guest at dinner. I’m sure you’d like some food in you, eh?” Hans nodded, realizing how hungry he was. “Alrighty then. I’ll get Gerda to start something while you two finish up here. I take it you can do the rest, Kristoff?”

 

The fisherman nodded, and the Inn keeper left the room as Kristoff continued to clean the blisters and burns with cold water, the human sighing gratefully with every few moments that passed the pair by. He was alone, naked, with the most handsome man in the universe as he was cleaning him up for dinner in the Human World. Every word of that sentence screamed perfect and Hans wanted to cherish that, knowing with his luck it wouldn’t last. But instead of focusing on the negatives, he let Kristoff drone on about himself and his life and his reindeer for so long as the fisherman pleased, the merman quite interested in learning what a ‘reindeer’ and a ‘sled’ and an ‘etiquette’ was. Time passed slowly as the image of a reindeer slowly began to materialize from the fisherman's words and descriptions. The merprince smiled gleefully at this, knowing if he could get him to imagine something as odd as a ‘reindeer’ there was no telling what he could learn solely in one week alone. Already he had so many ideas for Baltica when or if he went back.

 

Finally, after nearly an hour, Hans was feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world for dinner as an honored guest, the title never belonging to him back home. Of course, not remembering Johanna’s words earlier when she’d given him the cloak, he very nearly strolled out the door completely naked until Kristoff grabbed him and sat him down with a polite and seemingly entertaining warning as the iceman had an unwilling grin on the entire time. This was also when the prince discovered something very new that was the epitome of the human world: fashion.

 

The the world of merpeople, fashion was something primarily discussed by women, and it was limited as it could possibly get, the reason being aesthetics as people born in the sea had no need for clothes or covering themselves with much, for that matter. The options available to women were limited to three things: bras, jewelry, and hair whilst males simply went topless with no options at all. This, however, never seemed to bother anyone, as the corresponding colors and simplicity of the whole system were all that merpeople seemed to care about. If one were wealthy, it was defined by the rarest of pearls and corals, not by a flashy dress or shoes for obvious reasons. But in the human world, Hans knew it was a very different story.

 

While treasures of the sea still mattered to some extent here, land treasures were the most highly valued and kept hold of by only those with enough militia or power at their disposal to fight or squabble over it. Cloths of strange materials from animals he’d never even heard of felt constricting on his skin, his torso and arms sweating as he shrugged on one of the tops the fisherman had brought with him from his younger years; when he was less bulky and muscular. However, even with those adjustments, the former merman still felt silly as certain parts of the attire clung in some places and hung loosely in others in a form as diverse as a shepherd's field, dips and crests in all the wrong places. Explaining how to put breeches on was an absolute nightmare for both men.

 

“No, no, no, no!” Kristoff groaned as the merman struggled to force his legs into the long black tubes of fabric, the muscles still twitching a bit. “You need to relax your legs.” He held the hairy appendage still as his strong hands guided it down the dark tunnel of cloth. Hans nodded and tried to do so with the other leg, and the fisherman released a sigh of relief.

 

Shoes were also a pain not only because the mermans feet still screamed at him in agony from the new skin and flesh, but because it took a long time to convince him Kristoff’s feet weren’t curved up like an elves (even after he’d removed his boots and let Hans touch and tickle his feet for nearly ten minutes). Instructing him in tying a lace wasn’t as challenging, but getting him to look and walk comfortably in them was one task the blonde simply gave up on after helping him walk around the room, one arm of his massive shoulder, his merprince no better off than the past few hours.

 

“It’ll take you awhile,” Kristoff admitted as he let the auburn haired man fall flat onto the flowered bedspread, moaning quietly in pain as he tore the boots off to massage his tortured feet. “But eventually you’ll get there. It just takes practice. Who knows?” He sat down on the bed next to him. “By the day after tomorrow you may be ready to try dancing.”

 

Hans’ eyes shot open as he rocketed up, only to flip himself off the bed and land with a groan on the hardwood floor.

 

Kristoff sighed. “Or not.” He massaged the back of his head. “Maybe we should just stick to walking.” He stood up and helped the other man to his feet, trepidation glowing in his emerald green eyes. “Follow my lead.” He nodded and took a cautious step forward, the merman mimicking his movements without even a cringe. “Good. Right. You’re getting there,”

 

Kristoff took his hand and continued to lead him, Hans still stumbling a bit for a period of minutes before he was forced to admit defeat and took his legs onto the bed to rest them.

 

“Okay. I think you’ve got it for the most part. What do you want to do now?” The fisherman offered, knowing they had a half hour before dinner would be ready.

 

Hans looked around the room with curiosity written all over him, his gaze dancing around the room as he stood himself up. Stumbling over to the wall, he caught his breath as his legs began to wobble. Kristoff got up and dashed over to his aid but the merprince waved him away, trailing along the wall towards his target: a bookshelf with tomes that ranged from adult literature to classic plays and sonnets. His wrinkled pale fingers dusted the covers as he read each and every one, finally stopping at a title that caught his attention. The blonde fisherman traced his gaze and read the title aloud.

 

“The Little Mermaid.” He read as the merman eagerly removed the book from the shelf, studying the name closely. With energetic motions of his hands, his fluttering fingers pointed at the gold embossed lettering.

 

Kristoff smiled. “Yeah, it’s a book; a fairytale.” He nodded as the merman eagerly began to flip the pages, cherishing everything about even opening the novel from the delicate brush of parchment on his dry fingers to the scent of paper and ink that wafted from the aged work of literature he’d only ever seen in Anna’s collection.

 

Hans looked at the cover again and seemed eager as he thrust the red book at the fisherman and jammed an index finger at the author. For once, the blonde was at a loss to what Hans wanted, so he went through process of elimination.

 

“He’s written more books. Not all about merpeople.”

 

Hans shook his head and pointed again to the name. Kristoff grunted in confusion. “He’s not in the book, if that’s it.”

 

The merman released a braying sound and a sigh as he pointed to the name again. “What is it then? I give up.” The fisherman admitted.

 

Hans slapped a palm to his forehead and pointed to the golden letters spelling Hans, then indicated himself by pressing the same hand to his chest. Kristoff looked as the merman repeated the motion, and understanding dawned on him despite the answer being obvious.

 

“Hans.” Kristoff echoed. “Your name is Hans?”

 

Hans nodded fiercely, a wide grin curving on his freckled features. He snatched the book back from the fisherman and flipped it open to the first page before handing it back. Kristoff frowned at the material, the understanding fading for a moment as he looked at the first page, the inked illustration beautifully done with all the painstaking detail possible. Hans pointed a finger at the first words.

 

“You want me to read to you?” Kristoff guessed, his brown eyes scanning the story as his calloused fingers flipped to the end and seeing the fate of the mermaid. “Are you sure?”

  
Hans’ nod was all the reassurance he needed. Sitting down on the bed as the merprince sat in the chair he’d pulled across, he looked on with excited green eyes as the fisherman began the first words he’d pointed to that sounded oh-so-magical. Clearing his throat, he read aloud from the story as Hans watched and listened not only to the story, but to the echo of the fisherman’s voice. He let himself truly relax for the first time that day, taking a deep, calming breath that was, after all he’d been through, well deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, he can't speak English. That was one thing I always found confusing about the Little Mermaid. I mean wouldn't an entirely different race of species have a language that's different than ours?

**Author's Note:**

> I'd really like to know what you think of this, so please comment! Suggestions are taken.  
> Also, link to the images and its creator:  
> http://theforgotten13th.tumblr.com/post/79859215731/sketched-this-while-i-was-in-bed-sick-w-i-hope


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